


Speechless

by IAmAllYetNotAtAll



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (I hope), 1dsmutfree ficathon, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Pining, That's it, all fluff, and one blowjob innuendo (if you squint), and one mention of sex, but not the pathetic kind, famous!harry, lots and lots of fluffyness, very non descriptive kissing, youtuber!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmAllYetNotAtAll/pseuds/IAmAllYetNotAtAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was due to unfortunate circumstances that Louis had to start doing Youtube videos, trying his best to make ends meet for a charity he wouldn't have started if he'd had any other choice. It was by chance that he caught the attention of one Harry Styles, member of One Direction and the only boy in the world to ever make him speechless.</p>
<p>One awful knock knock joke and everything goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speechless

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my entry for the lovely 1DSmutFree ficathon. I had started this about a year ago and it turned out to be quite the monster. When I heard about this ficathon I couldn't help but feel that this fic would be perfect for it! (And it gave me a deadline which was nice!)
> 
> I am fully aware there are inaccuracies - whatever isn't accurate I already know isn't accurate so please don't feel the need to point it out. (I'm Canadian, I don't know what paying for health care is and I know England doesn't either, but I'm a writer and I can do whatever I want :P )
> 
> I know Stanley and Hannah aren't everyone's favourites (for whatever reasons), but I don't like using original characters so... Yup.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little monster, it's my pride and joy right now! Please feel free to leave a comment what you thought about it! I'd appreciate it.

Blank screen. Click. Light. On the screen appeared a boy with lightly tanned skin, feathery brown hair, and bright blue eyes. There were bags under his eyes, betraying his joyful façade and showing his... Fatigue? Distress? There was something off, clearly. Pink lips stretched out into a smile, the entire picture slightly blurred due to an old webcam.

 

"Hello people of Youtube! I'm Louis Tomlinson, as you can maybe tell from the username. I'm here to propose a challenge. Here's what's up. On September 4th, three weeks ago today, I was at Uni with my best mate Stan. We're outside having lunch at these picnic tables outside campus, that they have at most schools right? We're eating and having a laugh and suddenly Stan's on the ground... He fell over and he's on the ground, and..."

 

He cuts himself off, looks off to the side and he visibly composes himself. It takes only a couple seconds before he returns his eyes to the screen, his smile (now clearly forced) back in place.

 

"Can't talk about it yet, it seems." His smile is self-loathing contorted into an action, "Turns out it was his heart. Gave out on him. All of a sudden. Like... Boom. Not working. And then I find myself getting rid of our shared flat, my car, basically anything I had that was worth a little bit of money to try and pay for his treatments. His parents and I managed to pay for his treatments until December 31st. This is where you, and I, come in. The insurance refused to pay for, well, anything.

 

And Stan needs to do some sort of heart surgery. I don't know much, to be honest. The details were just... Gross to listen to. Normally for this kind of surgery a patient could wait over a year before getting the opportunity to get it done, but we got really lucky on this. There was an opening on December 24th and we took it. Of course we took it! But the hospital is aware of the money struggles we've had. They want the money before the operation. Or they won't do it. So, I told them, more like signed a contract with blood... That we'd have the money by December 24th, 9 a.m."

 

The boy sighed, placing his head in his hands in a show of weariness, but it lasted merely a moment.

 

"I'll make this brief. I told myself I'd never do something like this, but desperate times, right? In the description box down here, there will be a link to make donations. Even if it's a quarter, it still makes a difference. If everybody on earth gave a penny, we'd have like, six million pounds. Or something like that. The surgery is 121,284 pounds. That's like ten million people giving a penny. I'm no good at math, to be honest. Anyways, all donations will obviously go straight to the surgery, I myself will be putting money in every so often, so you can look for my name if you doubt it.

 

Now here's the 'challenge' part. I'm calling this a Quest. This is my Quest to gather 121 thousand pounds, and on a Quest there must be challenges right? So, until December 24th, you can challenge me, or bet me, whatever, to do some shit, at my home or in public, in favour of money. Nothing sexual please and thank you."

 

He swept his hair to the side, a wry smile on his lips.

 

"So if you'd like to embarrass someone, or make someone do stupid shit, here's an opportunity. I'll be filming it all and I'll be putting up the videos here on my Youtube channel, as proof."

 

There was a pause.

 

"I think that's it... Even if you can't donate, spread the word. I've got three months, so let's make this wildfire! Thank you!"

 

Click. Black screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Louis swiveled on his seat, ridding himself of tension. He'd just uploaded the video and there was no way to measure just how much he hated the situation he was in. He should be able to do this on his own, or more accurately, with Stan's parents, whom as well were doing all they could - double shifts whenever they could get them. But he couldn't do it all on his own. There was no way he could make that much without selling an organ.

 

If he knew how to go about doing that, he probably would.

 

He took twenty minutes to post the video link on his Twitter and on Tumblr, and put the donation link on his Facebook. Most of the people he had following him were friends and family, but it could get the ball rolling. Maybe.

 

Soon the video, ' _Vlog #1 - The Quest_ ' was as spread as he could make it in the short amount of time he had. Shutting off the desktop (he'd sold his laptop), he got ready for his shift at Toys R Us, and he hoped to come home to something positive.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry Styles watched 17 cat videos, 1 monkey mating ritual video, 4 shark week videos, and 6 football fails videos. Then he was off his break and getting ready with Lou and their stylist Caroline, within minutes finding himself on stage in front of 20 thousand teenage girls, 2 thousand fathers, and 250 boyfriends. This was his life and he couldn't be happier.

 

**OoOoO**

 

After ten hours on his feet surrounded by children screaming for _this_ particular toy and not _that_ one, he was glad to get home. Ecstatic even. It was past 10 p.m when he finally got home and the house was asleep, the girls having school in the morning and his mom and Dan working the day shift. He showered quickly and quietly, and went up to his room to change into pyjamas. It was pretty much bedtime for him too (as lame as that was), but he wouldn't crash until he checked up on the donations first.

 

The hard drive whirred to life and it took several minutes for it to fully boot up. He really missed his laptop, but it had been worth nearly a grand and it had helped keep his friend's treatment going. It was worth the loss.

 

A few clicks later and he was in his e-mails, his fingers making a non-existent tune on the mouse as his eyes took in the bolded ' **25 new messages** '.

 

There appeared to be a lovely mix from all 4 sites (Youtube, Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook). A couple friends on Facebook sending well-wishes and donating what they could. Two new followers on Tumblr (he'd have to remind himself to check to see if there were any reblogs). Other friends on Twitter sending love and some retweets that would hopefully get attention. It was looking through several Youtube e-mails when the first actual message appeared.

 

One was a request for Chubby Bunny which was, well, much easier than expected. He'd always assumed that only famous Youtubers were asked to do it, but this girl claimed to enjoy watching people do it so... He would make it happen. Better to start off slow, he supposed.

 

The second message he received was for an informative video. She - like most people, he stereotyped all social media users as girls until proven otherwise (oops!) - stated it would be easier to give him a challenge if they had more knowledge about him. That made a strange amount of sense.

 

It was nearly eleven and everyone was asleep, so he pushed the task for the next morning, choosing instead to finish going through the e-mails (two subscriptions from the two who'd sent the messages) and checked the donation site. Nearly 500 pounds from friends and Stan's extended family that lived in Sweden. That was a brilliant start. And it was with hope that he lay in bed that night, wondering how his friend was. He dreamt of good things.

 

**OoOoO**

Every morning, like clockwork, he was woken up at six. With seven people in one house, and six who obligatorily needed to wake at that time, he had no choice but to be roused by the walking and talking going on through the house. He used to be able to ignore it (High School was one hour later than the Elementary school), but after two years in a flat with Stan, who was murderous if woken early, he'd outgrown that particular skill.

 

The only reason he was back was because of Stan's illness. Moved out of the flat and back home, all the extra money going into the treatment. Otherwise, he'd have never moved back in. He loved his mom and sisters, but it made for one very full house.

 

He rolled out of bed, got dressed, and headed down to breakfast. The girls were eating cereal or toast, depending on taste, and his mum and Dan were drinking their morning coffee. He made himself some tea and sat down amongst his sisters, drowsily listening to their chatter.

 

"I saw your video. It was good. Any feedback yet?" Charlotte asked, her soggy Cheerios pushed aside.

 

"A little. Got some messages from Stan's aunt and cousins in Sweden. A lot of messages from schoolmates. It's good so far, just gotta keep pushing it." He supplied tiredly.

 

"Mrs. Lucas said we can go see Stan tonight. Can you take us? Mom'll be home late and I wanna go after school. Mom said she and Dan can ride together so you'll have the van."

 

"What do we say?"

 

"Please, Lou?" Félicity said, and suddenly he had four pairs of pleading, blue eyes on him. He hadn't planned on saying no in the first place, but it was still quite the force. He was such a pushover.

 

"Mum, all good with that?"

 

"Yes, it's no problem."

 

"Alright then. We ride at three."

 

The girls smiled and thanked him, and then were shoved out of the kitchen by Jay, "Brush your teeth and get dressed. You leave in half an hour."

 

A lovely chorus followed, "Yes, mum!"

 

His mom walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him against her chest, "I'm so proud of you, Louis. So, so proud." She whispered into his ear, "You're doing such a good thing for Stan, you're a wonderful boy. I don't tell you enough."

 

There must have been a dozen eyelashes in his eyes or something, because they were seriously burning. "Thanks." He cleared his throat, "I'm gonna work on the next video. Do we have any marshmallows?"

 

She detached herself and stepped to his side, looking at him suspiciously. Yet having raised him, and knowing his tendency to do weird things at all hours of the day, she just sighed, "Yeah, top cupboard."

 

"Thanks, mum." He took his mug, found the marshmallows easily, gave his mom a kiss, and waltzed out of the kitchen, "Bye mum, bye Dan."

 

"Bye, honey!" His mom said, and added loudly, "The keys will be on the hook!"

 

He stepped up the steps two at a time, and shouted a simple, "Okay!" over his shoulder. Upstairs, he said goodbye to his sisters and then locked himself in his bedroom to work out some video details.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Blank screen. Click. Light. A wave and a smile, "Hi there! Day two of the Quest here. We've collected 503 pounds and that's fantastic, but let's keep at it! There's two parts to this video today. The first will be my first challenge! For some reason, one _AllieKisKis05_ wants me to do the Chubby Bunny challenge, which, um, okay." He reached out of frame and pulled into view a bag of marshmallows and a tiny garbage. "Let's get started."

 

He brings the first marshmallow to his lips, and stops to add in, "The norm, I think, is eight or nine, by the way. And just saying, but I have a good gag reflex so I'll do myself proud and pass that."

 

There's a wink at the innuendo and the challenge begins. He manages a full 10 (and a half! - he'll insist) before he's spitting it out into the trash. He lifts a finger to the screen. It clicks off for half a second and clicks back on.

 

Louis' back on the screen, mouth washed and rid of marshmallow remains. His cheeks are tinged red from the effort and his smile is bright, "I used to like marshmallows. Maybe not so much anymore! For the second part of the video. I received a message asking for a bit of info about me, to make it easier for you guys to figure out challenges, so here's a bit about me."

 

A sigh. A grin.

 

"I'm 21, born on Christmas Eve. I live with my mum, her boyfriend, and my four little sisters. 14, 12, and twins 7. We live somewhere in England if you couldn't tell by the accent. I've done two years of college in Drama and English, and I shared a flat with my childhood friend Stanley Lucas, until the incident that is. To save money, I've come back home and sold our flat. I dropped all but one course so that I have more time to work and do more for this, um, 'charity', if you will, while still keeping my place on the footie team as I'm still technically a student.

 

I'm a right fielder and hoping - fingers crossed! - to get scouted at the end of the year and play professionally. I doubt it, but we'll see. Um... I work at Toys R Us and I tend to get fired a lot so hopefully this one'll stick for a few more months. Oh! I forgot to mention, my friend Hannah, an old friend of Stan and I's, has offered to film for me. Right now I'm using my crappy webcam if you couldn't tell, and she'll be using her recorder so it ought to be clearer once she starts filming.

 

I think that's enough of me talking. Link for donations is down here, and go ahead and send challenges and whatnot! Thank you, love you!"

 

Click. Blank screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry watched 4 cat videos, 2 fail videos, and 5 amazing animals videos before his bandmates, Liam, Zayn, and Niall, closed his laptop and forced him to go out with them. It was their second and last night in France, heading out to Belgium the next day. It'd be more fun if he didn't have random girls attempting to dance with him, but he managed to ignore them and focus on his friends and have a good time. It was all in all a good night.

 

**OoOoO**

 

He hated talking about himself like that. To people who didn't know and who most likely didn't care. This entire 'Quest' made him far too vulnerable and he really wanted to hide in a hole to avoid these strangers with no names or faces. As that was stupid and very much irrational, he simply dealt with it.

 

Checking his watch (realizing he didn't _wear_ watches, looked over at his alarm clock), and seeing there was still three hours before the girls came home from school, figured he had enough time to spread the video as well as he could online.

 

It was difficult to reach more people on Facebook so he merely put up a link to the second video and the donation site, as well as a thank you to those who'd already donated.

 

It was mainly similar for Twitter and Tumblr, unfortunately. Just putting it out there and hoping it spread, as that was really all he _could_ do. He did, though, send a message to someone he followed on Tumblr (a joke blog he found hilarious), and whom seemed both kind and influential, asking her, if she could, to promote his Quest.

 

Once done with that, he called up Hannah, checking in with her. She was doing an online program and so could fit her schedule around him, but he wanted to be positive in her choice. Just in case. After all, she was working on her last year of college and would probably benefit from the time she spent with him doing some schoolwork instead.

 

"Hiya!" He exclaimed happily as she answered the call. He loved talking with her. She understood that he didn't want to talk about Stan, that she was a fresh face to all the sadness surrounding him lately.

 

"Hey, Louis!" As all his friends did, she pronounced his name 'Lewis', but he really didn't mind.

 

"How're you doing on this lovely Thursday afternoon?" He asked brightly, shutting off the desktop. He was a bit hungry. Toast would be nice, he thought, getting up and making his way to the kitchen.

 

"Oh, wonderful! Working on some psych homework. Did you need me to come over, or just wanted a chat? Either is the distraction I've been praying for, to be honest." She said with a laugh.

 

"Just a chat, babe. I put up the second video and I'm going to check my messages later tonight. I promised the girls we'd visit Stan when they got back from school."

 

"Oh, yeah? I went yesterday. He's not as scary to look at."

 

He sighed. He knew exactly what she meant. The first time they went there had been so many wires and tubes and beeping machines that it had been, quite frankly, terrifying.

 

"Yeah. That's good."

 

"So what're you doing until the girls get home?" A smooth change of topic (he loved her that little more). He was lucky that his two childhood friends were so amazing.

 

"Eating. Probably going to watch some Breaking Bad."

 

"You watching last week's episode?"

 

"Yup."

 

"That's where I am! I'll watch it with you."

 

He made his toast and wandered over to the living room, turning on the TV and, with a countdown, the two started the show at the same time. It was calm and really nice, to just sit and watch television with a friend. He really hadn't been spending enough time with people in a normal setting lately. It was depressing.

 

**OoOoO**

 

It wasn't a long drive to the hospital, thankfully the girls kept calm enough for him to concentrate on the road and contain the monstrous minivan. Maybe he was driving like, half the speed limit, but the van was on the road and his sisters were all in one piece, so fuck off to the people honking behind him.

 

They arrived at the hospital soon enough, and he took the ticket, parked the car, put the ticket in the window (proof he was allowed to be parked there), and unbuckled the twins from their seats. The second they were released from the vehicle's confined space, they began to run around it, laughing and giggling.

 

He smiled, but reigned them in, "Girls, behave please. We're at a hospital, not a park, and we have to be good, okay?"

 

"Yes, Louis!" They chanted, taking his hands to walk the parking lot, Lottie and Fizzy walking ahead.

 

The nurses knew him well after his numerous visits in the past three weeks. He walked right into the room that occupied his friend and three other heart patients. In the far right was Stan, hooked to several machines, but looking less scary and sick than several days ago, and he waved them over from his inclined hospital bed.

 

"Louis! And you brought my favourite little ladies!" Stan exclaimed, grinning brightly. He was pale, a bit drugged to push away the pain, and in a good mood that was nice to see.

 

At first he'd been full of pessimism and, despite saying otherwise, fear. At 21 years old, it was to be expected that having a heart disease was terrifying, and Stan really hadn't taken it well for a while. Refusing to talk and see anyone. It didn't take Louis long to get through it, and now knowing that in a couple months he would get the operation he needed to get better, Stan was - not happy, per say, but soothed.

 

The girls briskly walked over to the bed, giving the sick boy (oh God, 21 years old, they were men, and how terrifying was that?) hugs that clearly made his day. Louis went more slowly, saying hello to the other three patients, having brief conversations before moving on. Eventually he reached his friend's bed where the girls had pulled up a couple seats and were talking excitedly to Stan.

 

"You should be honoured, Stan, you're getting the exclusive story. Even I haven't heard this one before." Louis said, a large smile on his lips. He stepped around the girls and gave Stan a quick hug in greeting, being careful of the wires. He was hoping the girls had taken the same precautions, although nothing looked misplaced, thankfully.

 

"How're ya, mate?"

 

"The same. How about you, man? Not sacked from Toys R Us yet?"

 

"Nah," Louis said, finding himself a seat, "Think I've nailed this one."

 

"Cool."

 

Their eyes met briefly, "It's good to see you." He hoped that it conveyed well enough the meaning behind the words, _I'm happy you're okay, I'm happy you're happy, I'm happy you're alive_ , trying to keep it out of the air and away from the girls' level of understanding. Stan nodded.

 

"Louis, did you know there's a boy in Lottie's life?" And the air cleared.

 

"Stan!" Charlotte squeaked, blushing bright red.

 

**OoOoO**

 

It was nice. Seeing his best friend happy, as much as he could be, and to see his sisters excited about seeing their brother-figure for the first time in two weeks. They could only stay a couple hours, but it was a good couple hours and when he got home he turned on his computer with a sense of hope (after setting the girls up with a movie and making sure Lottie and Fizzy were doing their homework, of course).

 

They were nearly at two grand. And fuck. That was good. So good. His e-mail was swamped with messages and subscriptions and follows, and he had four challenges. It was promising.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry Styles watched some war heroes going home videos, 3 turtle videos, 5 amazing sports videos, a 'males experience fake contraptions' video, a rapping bridesmaid video, and over a dozen cute animal videos. Yet he never came across _'Vlog - The Quest'_ by user _LouisTomlinson07_. Not video number 1, or 2, or 3, or 4... It was a little over a week later, somewhere in Germany,  on his own in a hotel room with his Twitter open that he came upon it. Kind of.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Harry, can't you get off your phone for two minutes?" Liam whined half-heartedly, flicking through foreign TV channels.

 

"I could. I choose not to. Look at this cat!" He turned the phone towards his friend.

 

Liam smiled, "Yeah, that's cute." He acquiesced, "I'm gonna eat and head to bed. Zayn and Niall crashed hours ago, and I think it's time for me to follow them up. Don't stay up too late." He reached over and ruffled the young boy's hair and laughed at his indignant, "Hey!". "Night, Harry."

 

"Night."

 

In time, he switched from Youtube to Twitter. He put out a vague Tweet about mangos and then clicked on his mentions, intending to answer a few. A few dozen messages and a few replies later, he came across a tweet from some lady with a rather dirty name that had even him looking away.

 

The tweet read, ' _@Harry_Styles you should check out Vlogs - the Quest on YT! The guy's hilarious and soooo cute! You'd prolly like it!_ '.

 

Curious, he opened up Youtube and typed in the title. There were various numbers so he went onto the channel, then on the playlist, starting at the first video.

 

The second the video started he was entranced. Despite the really shitty webcam, he could see just how gorgeous the boy was. There was something about the smile, those eyes, his _face_ , and the expression hidden away that he could see. At five seconds he paused the video. He clicked off his phone and pulled out his laptop. It was with a surprising amount of impatience (that he didn't even know he possessed) that he waited for it to load up. Within a couple minutes he was back to the video, this time on a larger screen.

 

If there was such a thing as love at first sight (which he did, in fact, kind of believe in) this was it.

 

He watched every single video. At the seventh he swore to send this 'Hannah' girl a fruit basket for the gift she gave to the world by lending Louis her recorder. The image and sound were then perfectly clear.

 

He finished the ninth video, and he sat there, staring at the 'recommended for you' list, not really seeing it. Without a second thought to it he started from the first again.

 

This boy (man actually. He was older than Harry himself, after all) was handsome and beautiful and funny and _good_ and he had such a fiery personality, and he came out so well from those short videos. He wanted more.

 

Like most things he did in his life, Harry didn't think twice before flipping on the camera and pressing record.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Blank screen. Click. Light. A curly-haired boy with impossibly green eyes and a lovely set of dimples and thick red lips appeared on screen. He was smiling.

 

"Hi there! You may know me as Harry Styles of One Direction, and um, that's who I am. Um... This is sudden... Um... This video is for Louis Tomlinson and his Quest. I'll put, um, links, I guess. In the, uh, description box thing... I'm sending you a challenge! But first things first, I think we should meet the man of the hour. I'd like to meet this Stan Lucas that you're doing all of this for. He sounds pretty fascinating. So if you get this done, then I'll send you a challenge. Hope your Quest goes well, Louis. Goodbye for now!" There's a wave, a dimple-inducing grin, and a click.

 

Black screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry put his laptop down on the coffee table, and grins at the 'related videos' that showed up at the end of his very first Youtube video. It was up and there was no taking it down now. He didn't dare think twice about what he'd just done and certainly not about the consequences that were sure to befall him now.

 

Not that that wasn't a common occurrence. Management was always on his ass about something or other. But this? Maybe this could be his.

 

At least for a little while.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"I hate this challenge." Louis stated dryly into the camera. Hannah laughed from off-screen, preparing the challenge. His mom smiled from where she stood behind the recorder.

 

"I'm surrounded by women day in and day out. I know this shit hurts like Hell, I don't need a lesson." He sighed as his friend stepped into the camera's view with the necessary items. He glared at the boiler and set of wax strips with distaste, but dutifully took off his shirt.

 

"Today, I'm going to be getting my chest waxed by the lovely Hannah. Yay!" The sarcasm was almost thick enough to see, "There was no specific area mentioned, so I chose. Not to seem vain, but I wasn't keen on the idea of having one waxed leg, and like hell I'm going to do both. So. Chest. Let's get started."

 

Hanna set the wax heater on the kitchen table, stepping around the extension cord and to Louis' side. She pulled out a popsicle stick from a packet and dipped it into the hot wax.

 

"You ready?"

 

He cringed. "Let's do this."

 

It was a very painful experience, he readily admitted once it was over. He tilted the hand mirror to look at his red, but smooth, chest. Hannah hastily rubbed on the oil (to sooth and smooth, she chimed).

 

"Half this video will be beeped." He commented, hissing softly at the sting. Finished, she moved to the side to give him room to finish the video.

 

"Well. This was by far my least favourite challenge yet. But you deserve it. If you want to watch me be tortured more, you'll find it here. We've reached as of..." He checks the hour on the oven, "Actually last night. I haven't looked since, but it's October 5th and we've made over 5 thousand pounds. That's huge! Thank you all for donating, let's keep this up! Thank you, love you, good day!" A cheeky (slightly pained) grin and a wave, and his mom turned off the recorder.

 

"Fucking Hell, this hurts."

 

Hannah laughed, clutching her chest at the intensity of it, "That. Was the best challenge. Ever."

 

"You enjoyed it too much." He glared as her as she continued to laugh, "Alright, alright. Let's get this edited and then you can laugh at me all you want."

 

"Yeah, alright." She agreed, wiping the corner of her eyes where tears had appeared.

 

"Thanks, mum." Louis said, standing up and walking over to his mother, taking the recorder from her.

 

"It was my pleasure, Boo. Make sure you clean all this up, okay?"

 

"Yes, mum." He droned.

 

"Good, I'll see you later. It's takeout for supper today."

 

"M'kay, later."

 

She left the kitchen and he turned to the waxing items and started cleaning up. Once finished, the wax put away where the girls couldn't reach, he and Hannah headed to his room to work on the editing. It would be video 10, with three challenges.

 

Taking Hannah's laptop, he set himself up on his bed with the recorder and he set to work on editing while she booted up his desktop, going through his e-mail. There was so much now that he could hardly get through it and have to do everything else.

 

An extra set of hands was more useful than he'd initially imagined.

 

"Hey, Louis." Hannah called after a few minutes, "C'mere."

 

He paused the video and shuffled off the bed, groaning at the sudden vertical pull to his body, "What is it?" He stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the computer screen. She was on Youtube, on his 9th video, to be exact.

 

"There's a video response to yesterday's video." She said, scrolling down enough to see the video thumbnail.

 

"Well, that's a first." He muttered, spotting a username that had something to do with banana's and 'Styles', which, whatever. The usernames were always weird. The video was titled, _'The Quest - A Challenge'._

 

She clicked on the video and clicked the fullscreen button, and suddenly a pair of green eyes were staring directly at him and his focus was stolen completely.

 

Wow. There was a kind of clumsy charm to his smile and words that drew Louis in more than anything ever had before. It was alarming. But also pretty fucking awesome. Louis was a fan of having crushes, contrary to most people. The racing heart and the stomach full of butterflies. It was nice and warm and relatively harmless.

 

The alarming part came with the fact that he didn't know the kid's name. Or anything at all.

 

He'd need to restart the video and pay attention this time.

 

... And there it was. One Harry Styles. Of One Direction. That sounded familiar. He'd have to Google it. But later. After the video.

 

His voice was low and really slow, and Louis, as a fast talker, was wondering why he didn't just... speed up. But he kind of liked it, too. Would love to hear it forever, maybe. Telling him stories in the middle of the night.

 

Unlike Hannah. Who was clearly getting frustrated at the slow tone. She liked fast. Talked fast, drove fast, did everything fast. This was most likely a type of torture for her.

 

Oh. It was done.

 

"Google him." Louis said immediately, flicking her shoulder impatiently.

 

"Okay! Sheesh." She typed in Google and she had ' _Ha-_ ' typed in the search bar before the words filled themselves, giving the name 'Harry Styles' as the top recommendation, and she pressed enter. "Well. Seems to be, uh, well-known." She stated, her eyes on the 100 million results.

 

"Who the fuck is this kid?" Louis moved her hand out of the way and clicked on the first link. It brought him to a biography.

 

"I swear I've heard 'One Direction' before."

 

"Me too." He muttered, his eyes flying across the lines, skipping most.

 

Normally, he was a bit of a gossip. He liked information, liked knowing things. But for this? It felt a little wrong. There was a small part of him (pushed aside and covered with his baby blanket in the back of his mind) that wanted that voice telling him all this. Telling him about his sister and mother and Holmes Chapel. Instead, he skipped straight to the One Direction part of the biography, ignoring Hannah's, "I was reading that!" as he scrolled down to find it.

 

"Oh my God."

 

"Oh my God." Hannah echoed.

 

"'The world's biggest boyband.'" He quoted, pulling away and going to sit on his bed, too shocked for words.

 

"They sang that _'What Makes you Beautiful'_ song that played on the radio non-stop for weeks. And he messaged you. No. He made a video talking to you directly."

 

Louis groaned, falling back on the bed and covering his eyes with his forearm, "Biggest boyband. And he's so cute too!"

 

Hannah swiveled the chair to look at him, exasperation on her face, "Really, Louis? Really? Harry Styles makes a video - for you! And you're _upset_ because you can't fuck him? Focus, Louis! The guys a bazillionaire!"

 

"Bazillion isn't a number." He stated.

 

"Whatever, Louis! He has a shit ton of money and he wants to help. This is like, opportunity of a lifetime."

 

He sighed, "I know. But he's just so... Ugh! Attractive. And his voice! How do you think he even found my videos?"

 

"Does it matter? He did and this video has thousands of hits and comments. This is what we needed."

 

"I just... I don't get it. Why my video? He has thousands of girls at his feet, why would he give this much attention to my quest?"

 

"I don't know! He could just be a really good guy. Boyband isn't synonymous to asshole, contrary to your beliefs."

 

"How does he have time for this? I thought it said he was on tour."

 

Hannah turned back to the screen and scrolled to the tour part, "Yeah, in Germany today. Finishing Europe in a couple weeks, then heading to Australia. Spending a month and a half there, then a couple days in Japan, and they'll be done mid-December."

 

"I don't get it." This _kid_ that caught his attention in a matter of seconds, who made his heart flutter when he thought about those stupid eyes, that he saw for the first time _five_ minutes ago! This _kid_ was a super-famous singer. Who took the time and energy to make a video and post it. For him. For his quest. It didn't make sense.

 

"Neither do I. But let's wing it, okay? It's the perfect kind of attention. And it's not a hard challenge or anything. Frankly, it makes sense. So let's do it and see where it goes."

 

"Yeah. Okay." A moment of silence.

 

"Can I download their music on your laptop?"

 

She laughed.

 

**OoOoO**

 

As predicted, he got in trouble. But it wasn't his management that got to him first. Nope. It was his bandmates.

 

"Harry, you know what we want to talk about." Liam said as they gathered in their dressing room early to have time to talk.

 

"Yeah..." He said, sitting down dejectedly. He hated when Liam felt the need to give him a talk. It usually meant he'd done something wrong and disappointed his bandmate.

 

"I found the video through Twitter. Why did you post it, Harry?"

 

"You're going to be in so much trouble for this. Management is going to shit bricks." Niall added, taking his own seat near Harry.

 

Liam, sensing Harry's mood, sat down with a sigh, "We're not upset or anything. It's such a nice thing you're trying to do for this guy. I fully believe it's the kind of thing we should do in our position! But Harry..."

 

"Modest doesn't like surprises. This could lead to serious repercussions. They're already on your ass about getting a girlfriend." Zayn commented, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

 

"It's because it's a guy, isn't it? There'd be no problem if it was a girl." He stated bitterly.

 

"Honestly? Yes. He has no relation to the band, so they'll think you looked for him-"

 

"I didn't! It was a complete fluke, it was chance!"

 

"You looked for him, or you found him, whatever. They'll think you took a shining to him. Which you did, didn't you? He fascinates you and you did something about it. And there's a chance others see it that way too."

 

"Doesn't mean I'm gay! They just assume that that's what everyone thinks of me. Oh, Harry Styles is with a guy, he must be fucking him! No, that doesn't happen, they always assume we're friends! I'm still being linked with dozens of girls I've met once in my life. Anyways, there are always going to be rumours. Why shouldn't I be allowed to make a Youtube video that happens to have this guy as the intended viewer?"

 

"Because it's not just rumours with you, Harry." Zayn stated bluntly. He felt for him, he really did, but they had to take this seriously.

 

"You know we would love for all this to stop, for you to come out. We do want you happy. You know that right?"

 

"Of course I do, Niall. I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry. Yeah, maybe I did take a 'shining' to him, but there's something about him... I couldn't let him slip by."

 

"You can't risk your career on a feeling." Liam said gently, "You know better."

 

"This isn't just a feeling. I want to be a part of what he's doing. I want to help him and his friend. The fact that I'm maybe partially in love with him is irrelevant!"

 

"Maybe partially-what? Harry, you know nothing about him! How could you possibly be 'maybe partially in love' with him?" Liam exclaimed incredulously.

 

"I don't know, Liam! I don't know! It's so fucking scary, but it's also so amazing and I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. There's just _something_ about him." Harry stood, pacing briefly to rid himself of the burning frustration that came with people not understanding him.

 

The three boys stared at him, but they did, in fact, understand. Not the feeling, but Harry in general. He always felt hard and strong, and really fast, and with the surety in his tone, they had no doubt this was one of those instances.

 

"Alright. Doesn't mean you won't get in shit for this. If anything it makes it worse." Niall said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

 

"Yeah, well, I think it's worth it." Harry said defiantly. He knew they were on his side. Always. But defensive remained his natural response.

 

"I was thinking, I mean, I watched the videos. He does seem like a good lad and I'd like to help. Maybe if we tell management this is a team project then you won't get in trouble. That way it's not Harry Styles putting attention on Louis Tomlinson." Zayn said, stepping away from the wall and beginning to get changed. The concert was soon and they had to start getting ready eventually. Niall followed suit, continuing to listen, but feeling that the hard part was over.

 

"What do you mean 'as a team'?" Harry asked, taking his seat again.

 

"We could all give him a challenge. Make a video, put it on your channel. A team project." He explained.

 

"I can't let you do that. I made a commitment. I knew I'd be in trouble, I'm okay with that. You really don't need to do this to protect me. It's a nice thought, but I can't drag you into something you don't want to do." Harry said, shaking his head at the thought.

 

"I'm down for it. Kinda seems fun. I'll have to watch the videos after the concert. I'm sure I'll think of something." Niall said with a shrug.

 

"But you'd have to donate money and I definitely can't ask you to do that."

 

"Sometimes I feel like I have more money than I know how to spend. I'll meet whatever you donate." Liam joined the other two in getting dressed. They noticed but paid no attention to Harry's face-splitting smile and shining eyes.

 

"Really?"

 

"To the penny." Harry remained seated, just smiling brightly at his bandmates, "Come on, Styles! We've got a concert to perform."

 

He stepped up to his friends and pulled them into a group hug, hiding his tears. Pulling away, he wiped them off and nodded quickly.

 

"Let's do this."

 

It was a great performance.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Any of you girls know the band One Direction?"

 

It was suppertime with the family, and he'd uploaded the video he and Hannah had been working on that morning an hour ago, giving himself the evening to figure out Harry Styles' challenge. In the meantime, he figured one of his sisters would know who he was and maybe he could get a bit of information. It felt less invasive by mouth than by written words.

 

"Heard of them. Not interested." Charlotte said through a mouthful of delivered pizza.

 

"Nope."

 

"Not a clue." The twins chorused, not really paying attention as they attempted to get more food in their mouths than on themselves for once.

 

"I do. I like their music. Girls in my class talk about the band all the time, to a point of obsession. It's kinda scary."

 

He knew he could count on Fizzy.

 

"Aren't they a boyband? I thought you hated boybands." His mother pointed out.

 

"I do. I did. I don't know. It's just... Those videos I put on Youtube? I got a response video from Harry Styles. One of the singers."

 

"Oh my God, are you serious?"

 

It took a couple minutes to calm the girls and explain more thoroughly the situation, eventually he reached the conclusion that Fizzy didn't know anything about Harry Styles. No matter, really. Not like the information would have served any purpose.

 

"His challenge is to meet Stan. Just to get to know him a little better. Are cameras allowed in hospitals?" He directed this towards his mother.

 

"Hannah's recorder? Yes, but don't get caught with it." His mother replied.

 

"How is 'don't get caught' a yes?" He asked, with exaggerated exasperation.

 

"It won't damage the zones or whatever it is they say, but the nurses will still ask you to put it away." His mother clarified.

 

"Oh, okay. I'll be going tomorrow morning, Hannah's going to pick me up."

 

"That's great honey, he'll be happy to see you."

 

"Yeah." He agreed.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Blank screen. Click. Light. The camera shook lightly as it recorded the blue-eyed boy whom was holding it in front of his face, the scenery behind him not the usual bedroom. This time, he was in a car, the seat and half the window his backdrop.

 

"Hi there! Louis here, with Hannah who's driving."

 

"Hola!" Her voice chirped from off-screen.

 

"Today I'll be doing the 'challenge' proposed to me by one Mister Styles. So, we're on our way to the hospital. Since I'm not really allowed to record inside, I'll be making this short."

 

Scene change. Now, the backdrop was a white wall, clearly the hospital, and the sound of walking and chatting reached the recorder mic. Louis was no longer holding the camera, his upper half more properly in frame. He was sporting his usual bright smile.

 

"Alright," He whispered, "We're outside his room. He doesn't know we're filming, or coming actually, so he'll be slightly confused... Nevertheless, let's meet Stanley Lucas!"

 

Louis walked to an open doorway and stepped through, the camera following his every move. He stepped right up to the last bed on the right.

 

"Mate! How're ya doing?" His voice had gained an excited lift to it in the presence of his best friend, one that had never been caught on camera before.

 

"Louis!" Stan came into view, and there was no doubting that there was a sickness clinging tightly to the man. Pale and frail, a blanket wrapped around a thinning frame, and several beeping machines were more than sufficient proofs. The man looked at the camera, a raised eyebrow and a grin, "Hannah, babe, what's with the camera?"

 

"Hannah's doing a school project. She's been filming everything lately." Louis lied smoothly.

 

"Yup." She agreed.

 

"It's great to see you guys! The people here are so boring." The last part was whispered, to avoid being heard by the other patients in the room.

 

"I can imagine." Louis sat on a seat on the other side of the bed, keeping Hannah across from him so as to be able to film him easier, "How're you doing?"

 

"They started me up on this new painkiller like, five minutes ago. Kinda woozy. But it's okay, I've got awesome roommates."

 

"Lots of war stories?"

 

Stan whispered, "You have no fucking idea."

 

The camera zoomed onto Stan's clenching hand, "Stan, are you alright? You seem tense or something." Hannah said from off-screen.

 

"Yeah, I just. My-my hand's just burning." He clenched his hand, the IV drip sticking into a thick vein, the blue contrasting the paleness of his hand. The heart monitor picked up speed.

 

"What do you mean, 'burning'?" The camera zoomed out and took in Louis, who leaned towards his friend, concern written all over his face.

 

"It's fucking burning!" It was a pained shout and the camera shook, and didn't stop.

 

Louis' reflexes kicked in, spotting a movement and lunging forward, taking hold of his friend's wrists before he could rip out the IV. "Stan, mate. It's okay." Louis let go of the hand with the IV drip in it, but kept a hold of the other one as it struggled in his hold. He used his free hand to press the call button repeatedly. "A nurse is coming." There was panic in his voice, but his grip remained strong.

 

Stan's eyes were wide in fright and pain, his head thrashing from side to side, continuing to struggle against Louis' grip, "Let me go!"

 

"You can't mess with the wires. Just a little bit longer." He pressed the call button again.

 

The heart monitor was going crazy, the beeping completely erratic. Stan had tears rolling down his cheeks, his pain very clear and intense. Suddenly, he gave a sharp tug and managed to free himself of Louis grasp, using his free hands to push his friend away from himself.

 

Louis had to take a step back to regain his balance, and the camera caught the look of fear that came onto his face at that moment. The camera continued to shake. In the blink of an eye there were nurses rushing into the screen, shouting instructions, one gesturing for them to leave.

 

"You need to leave this area immediately."

 

The camera approached Louis, who remained immobile, and a hand appeared onscreen and took a hold of his shirt, tugging him backwards.

 

"Come on, Louis." Hannah's voice wavered.

 

He stepped back, but his eyes caught the needle in the nurse's hand. He saw his friend writhe and tug on the wires and push the nurses away. Saw him let out a pained shout as the needle pierced his skin.

 

"Stan!"

 

A shout. And the camera clicked off. Scene change.

 

Louis appeared on screen, his bedroom the background this time. His eyes were slightly puffy, but he had evidently gathered his composure as best as he could.

 

"Hi there. Um, I'm not sure what this video is going to look like. Hannah's going to edit for me. Um. Stan's okay now, I don't know how much you saw, but he's good. It was a severe allergic reaction to the painkillers they'd given him this morning. Uh..." His eyes trailed down, he huffed out a laugh and lifted into view a small paper with writing on it.

 

"I don't usually write what I need to say, but I'm so unfocused right now. So, sorry about that. Something you may have noticed is that, well, Stan doesn't know about this. He thinks the insurance agreed to pay for everything. His parents and I decided it would be best not to stress him with money issues. His heart, ya know. We're not risking anything. We're past 9 thousand pounds, I couldn't say the exact number, but we're doing great. I think we can make it. Maybe."

 

A pause as he fixed his fringe, taking a breath to gather his thoughts.

 

"I also wanted to add, for you Mister Styles. You seem the type to take blame for everything, so um. This was absolutely just a stroke of bad luck. It's almost best I was there to make sure he didn't hurt himself. So, no blame, okay?"

 

Another pause. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

 

"The link for the donation site will be in the description box, as usual. Let's keep at this guys, we're really moving forward. Thank you, love you!"

 

Click. Blank screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and gently put his laptop on the coffee table in front of him. They were backstage in Denmark, some time left before the concert, and he and the boys had taken their spare time to watch Louis' latest video. He kind of felt like his heart was in his throat. Out of fear for the sick boy - though he knew he was better now - and happiness at how sweet Louis was to consider his feelings.

 

Not a lot of people did that.

 

"That was intense." Liam commented from his left side.

 

"I like him. He's sharp. Caught onto your I-blame-myself-for-everything attitude." There was a smirk on Zayn's lips and he didn't need to look to his right to know it.

 

"Shut up." His near-giddy tone made the reprimand invalid.

 

"Seriously though, he seems nice."

 

"Real shame about his best mate. I don't know what I'd do if it were one of you guys." Harry felt Liam shiver and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a half-hug.

 

"Me too, but it's not, so no thinking like that."

 

"Let's talk instead about how far gone Harry is for this guy." Niall chirped from his position half on Zayn's lap and half on the arm rest.

 

"Shush, you." He swatted in the Irishman's general direction, his gaze stuck to the laptop screen.

 

"Figure out a challenge yet?" Liam asked, getting up and stretching, bones popping into place in a way that made Harry cringe.

 

"I think so. I'll film tonight if I'm not too tired."

 

"That's good. I'm still figuring something out, but we've still got a couple months right?" Zayn asked, shoving Niall off himself and standing up, letting the blonde fall into Harry's lap. He didn't bother moving.

 

At that moment Lou, their wonderful hair stylist, came in, her equipment in hand. Liam sat down in the seat, letting her do as she pleased (like usual), and Zayn leaned up against the wall to wait for his turn.

 

"A little more than two months." Harry supplied. He reached down and flicked Niall's ear, "Get. I need my lap."

 

"Ugh..." He groaned, but moved up as asked.

 

"Is it sad if I watch it again?"

 

"Yes." Was the general consensus on the matter.

 

"Fuck you then." He muttered, smiling despite himself. He loved these people a lot, and sometimes it would give him random bursts of happiness when thinking about it.

 

He pulled the laptop back onto his lap, but before he could press play, Lou spoke up from her place behind her hair chair. "You talking about that Louis guy, right?" She sent off Liam, gesturing for Zayn to take his seat.

 

"Maybe." He said to annoy her. She had seen his video the day before, just as his bandmates had, and she'd confronted him too. He'd explained his intentions to her, and how the other boys had offered to help. She, like his boys, seemed to have taken a liking to Louis, of which he couldn't be happier. It meant he wasn't blinded by his initial attraction, and that Louis was as kind as he thought him to be.

 

"D'you ever talk to management about that?" She was also aware of the trouble the video could cause.

 

"Yeah. It went... Alright."

 

**OoOoO**

 

_...That morning._

 

"Harry Edward Styles, what the Hell were you thinking?" The woman hissed. He held the phone away from his ear for a moment, bringing it back once she was finished.

 

"Look, me and the boys thought-"

 

"Don't bring the others into this, Harry. We both know this was your doing." He'd hoped Aaron would be the one to call him. He was calm. Wendy wasn't.

 

"Okay, okay. It _was_ me, but the boys are going to participate too. This is a charity act. It's a good thing. It's not like I took some random guy home and there are pictures all over the place."

 

"Not the point, Harry. The point is that you brought attention to this guy and your relation to him."

 

"I'm tired of hearing that! Nobody is going to make that leap! And those that do already think I'm gay. It's not this huge declaration. It's just a charity act. That's it."

 

"And that's it? No feelings, no favouritism?"

 

"Um... Yes."

 

"You're a horrible liar." She seemed to have calmed down some, which was nice.

 

"I know," He acquiesced, "But it wasn't just, 'oh my God! This guy is so hot, let me talk to him in the most public way possible!' I'm genuinely interested in this project and maybe there's a bit of favouritism, but I'm doing this. I'm not taking down the video and I'm not going to change my mind."

 

"Okay, do it. But if people start talking..."

 

"I've seen the articles. The only one who suspects anything other than the simple charity act that it is, is Sugarscape. And they've always thought I was gay." The few articles that talked about his video had been generally positive, which explained why there were few. Who cared about people doing good things, right?

 

"What about this boy, hm? Does he know about the articles?"

 

Oh. He hadn't thought of that.

 

"They haven't found him yet, but they will. Paparazzi will want pictures and some sort of statement about you. You know they will. Is he up for that? He certainly didn't sign up for this." He hated the smug tone, but he had to give her credit. In the excitement he hadn't thought about how Louis could be affected. He felt instantly guilty.

 

"I um..."

 

"Exactly. Think before you act, Harry! This was so stupid of you to do, you don't even get it! Maybe if you do this as a team, like you said, maybe it'll blow over. Then we can move on. Just _think_ from now on, okay?"

 

He wanted to yell at her, tell her not to treat him like he's stupid or like a child. But he wasn't aggressive, couldn't yell at someone even if he really wanted to. So he took it. He wasn't a pushover, he'd fight anyone on that, but he was soft. That he'd admit.

 

"Now, Harry. It's been a while since you've gone out with a girl and-"

 

"Oh! Look at that! It's almost showtime, and I haven't gotten my hair done yet. I'll talk to you later, Wendy. Bye!" He hung up. Rudeness was usually a no-no for him, but for this he'd let it slide.

 

He hated talking to management.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Louis heard a bit about the articles, Hannah found out about them through Twitter, read them, and relayed the details to him. Reporters knew his name and his face, but they hadn't looked more into it, thankfully. Apparently when it came to Harry Styles, the news only cared about people with vaginas.

 

"Honey, are you sure they aren't going to find our address?" His mother asked.

 

It was Sunday, October 6th, and he'd put up his video response to Harry's challenge earlier that afternoon, after getting back from the hospital and having Hannah edit the footage. The view count had frozen within the hour, but he knew it would be his highest viewed video thanks simply to the mention of the popstar's name. He'd yet to get online, having had a footie practice later in the afternoon. He only made it home late that evening, and he'd found his mom with a magazine in her hand. She'd shown him the article, which had presented the curly-haired boy in a positive light for taking on a charity (he really hated the term), and his name had been briefly mentioned.

 

When he'd first started putting his videos on Youtube, his mother had worried about the same thing, and now her worry had come back and he told her the same thing he'd told her then.

 

"I'm sure. I'm not interesting enough for them to look more into it. Don't worry about it." He assured her.

 

"If you're sure," She didn't sound sure at all, "Just be careful."

 

"I will. I'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you in the morning." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and made his way out, "Really, mum. Don't worry about it."

 

"I'll try. Goodnight, baby."

 

She'd fret, but what could he do? The attention would fade out soon enough. It was late, and he did want to head to bed, but he also needed to check his messages. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he'd last done so and he was sure to be swamped and way behind.

 

He turned on the desktop, sighing out of simple fatigue. Several minutes and clicks later he was on his e-mail. There was a flagged one from Hannah that appeared at the top of the list, and he clicked that first. There were fewer e-mails than he'd anticipated and he assumed Hannah had something to do with that. Her e-mail read;

 

_I was bored and didn't want to do homework. I went through your e-mails for like an hour. Fuck there's a lot. Here's the important shit._

There was a list of names, challenges, and people he needed to message and thank.

 

_You need a fucking secretary._

 

Was all she added at the end of the list. She was amazing, and that was all his reply comprised of.

 

_You're amazing._

 

He stored the e-mail in his _'important'_ folder to look at more thoroughly in the morning and he moved on. On the top of his list there was a message from a Youtube account sent within the last hour and he opened it, skipping alerts on new followers and subscribers. He needed to change his alert settings so he wouldn't receive them. Twitter was especially bad. He was in the couple thousands now, when he'd only had a couple hundred a few days ago.

 

It was a private message from one Harry Styles. He'd recognize the weird-ass username about bananas anywhere. Green eyes and dimples flashed into his thoughts, and he didn't hold back his smile. It was rare for him to get crushes on people, especially unattainable people, (falling for the straight guy _so_ wasn't his thing, and he had his doubts about Harry, but there was still the _fucking famous_ part that... Yup. Not going to happen.), but it was nice anyways. The feeling of 'liking' with no side hurt or pain. Especially when it was just 'liking'.

 

Really. Honest.

 

_Hiya, Louis! It's Harry. Have you seen any of the articles published recently about my video and yours? This might be too little too late, but I'm really sorry about this. I wasn't thinking. If I had, I'd have known they'd write about it, and I should have talked to you first. I don't know how you feel about being talked about in public like that, but I should know and I'm so sorry that I don't. Please let me know if you're uncomfortable with any of this and I'll take down the video. It's a little late, but it's the least I can do. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, please feel free to tell me._

_Again, I'm SO sorry._

_Sincerely, Harry Styles_

Louis read through it twice, rolling his eyes, but smiling fondly. It was endearing. He didn't really need to think about it, typing up a reply right away, the words coming out strangely easily. Naturally, almost.

 

Once sent off, he shut off the desktop. It was late, he was tired, and that was the sweetest message he'd ever received, and it wasn't even _that_ sweet. Just thoughtful. And it was a happy thought to sleep to, and he'd take advantage of it.

 

He slept like a baby.

 

**OoOoO**

 

They were on the bus at four in the morning, heading off to Switzerland. They were tired. Zayn and Niall were sleeping in their bunks, and Liam was nodding off on the couch, his head sliding down until he caught himself and jolted back up straight, only to slowly slide down again. Harry was on the opposite couch, fighting it off a little better, taking out his phone to distract himself. Plus, it was the first chance he's had to check his e-mail since the night before. Not that it was super important or anything.

 

There was no stopping the smile that spread on his lips.

 

"An e-mail?"

 

After receiving the call from management yesterday morning, he'd spent the day thinking of a way to apologize to Louis. After watching video #11, featuring one Stanley Lucas, he knew he _had_ to apologize, some way or another. The man had enough stress without paparazzi on his ass. He'd planned on making a video, which would have been redundant, but his time had been rather shorter than he'd hoped.

 

So a message on Youtube would have to suffice, no matter how impersonal it seemed.

 

"Yeah. He answered last night, like an hour after I sent it." Back from the concert, he'd hopped on his laptop to make an e-mail that sounded half-decent (hopefully).

 

"That's nice." Liam was too tired to show his interest, but Harry knew he understood the excitement, having been the same with Danielle. He'd take what he could get from his dead-tired bandmate.

 

"It is." He agreed, his finger hesitating a moment, before just taking the shot and clicking on the little e-mail icon. He took a deep breath and read.

 

_Mister Styles! I was afraid I'd been presumptuous by saying you take blame for everything, but I guess not! I'm not forgiving you for something that doesn't need an apology. So shove it. By the way, you shouldn't offer 'anything' to people. People could take advantage of you. I mean, people who aren't as fabulous as myself, of course. But to be serious, I don't mind the articles, really. I can live with them as long as they don't harass my family and I don't expect that to happen. Never apologize for good intentions._

_Have a good concert and take care!_

_Sincerely, Louis Tomlinson._

_PS: If there's anything else, you can e-mail me here - louistomlinson@blah.com, if you prefer. Tag it as urgent and I'll be able to see it right away. I've been getting a shit ton of e-mails and I wouldn't want to lose it!_

Harry smiled, ducking his head down to hide the very obvious infatuation on his face. He was far too expressive, he'd been told. Not that anyone was there to witness it, since his only companion had fallen asleep. To give himself time to think of a reply and maybe melt the ridiculous grin off his lips, he put his laptop to the side and got up to help his friend to bed.

 

"Lee-yum, c'mon. Go take a nap. You'll get a crick in your neck if you stay like that." Slowly he roused from sleep, glaring at Harry half-heartedly.

 

"You look way too happy for five in the morning." He grumbled, standing on his tired feet.

 

"Shut up."

 

"Mm." Liam shuffled off into the narrow hall containing their beds, not looking back.

 

Once assured that his friend had made it safely (and hadn't hit himself on anything), he returned to his seat, placing his laptop on his lap. The brief exchange hadn't inspired him at all, yet he opened up a new e-mail, copied in Louis' e-mail address, and typed in the large, empty box.

 

_Do people still use 'mister'? I don't think so. Harry's just fine. The boys and I are on our way to Switzerland right now. I should hopefully be able to record the video around noonish, if I'm lucky. We have a sound check at nine in the arena, but I should have time afterwards. I say 'should' because things tend to happen that I can't really control, so I apologize in advance if it doesn't work out._

_I remember you mentioning that you still have a class. What subject were you taking? What class did you decide to keep? Sorry, just curious is all._

_Also, I know it seems insincere when it's typed like this, but I am sorry about your friend, and the articles and everything, and I do hope all this works out for him. And you, of course._

_Have a good day!_

_Sincerely, Harry Styles_

_PS: This is my private e-mail. I don't think you would, but I_ have _to say, please don't spread it. I really don't mean this offensively, I just have to be careful. Sorry._

 

**OoOoO**

 

"You're disgusting."

 

"Shut up."

 

"You're so smitten. It's nauseating!"

 

"I am _not_ smitten!"

 

"Come now, Louis, no need to lie. You're practically glowing with joy and it's just an e-mail."

 

"I can't just be in a good mood?"

 

"No."

 

She laughed at his glare (that did nothing to hide his glee). "Well, it's two o'clock, his video might be up now." She looked up Harry's Youtube account on the desktop computer, as was her designated spot it seemed. There was just the video from the previous week. "Nope, not yet." She turned from the desktop to look at Louis, sitting on his bed with her laptop in front of him, clicking away at the keys. "Replying?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"He seems sweet. A good lad, I think."

 

"Yes, I'm sure there are millions of young women who agree with you."

 

"Don't be a spoil sport."

 

"Realistic." There was a click and a sigh, and Louis put the computer to the side, spreading out his legs and laying on his back, "Done."

 

"We have time to do some filming before the girls are back from school."

 

"Let's get to it then."

 

**OoOoO**

 

His phone pinged in his coat pocket, signaling an alert.

 

They were still on stage, trying to work out the mics. They'd had a break at eleven and had been told to return at one-thirty. And an hour and a half later, they were still standing around working out the kinks in the sound. As it was currently Zayn's turn to check his volume, he felt it safe to take out his phone and turn it on briefly, long enough to see what the alert was. It was an e-mail. Curious, he stepped into the shadows hoping the tech guys wouldn't see him, and thumbed in his password. He clicked the icon and arrived at his messages, easily spotting the new one.

 

Smiling despite himself (which was rather annoying...), he pressed Louis' message and read through it twice.

 

_Well, your Highness, I'll have you know that 'mister' is still a very respectable term used in everyday conversation if one is surrounded by small children or elderly folk. Don't diss the 'mister' Princey._

_How's Switzerland? And how's - what must be the funnest thing to do, ever! - soundcheck? I'll admit, I did some theatre a while back and every time soundcheck came along I'd just be goofing off in the corner with some mates. Is it as boring for you as it was for me? I imagine you're used to it by now._

_And really, Princey? School? Might as well ask me how the weather is. Your small talk is atrocious. But since you asked, I was majoring in drama with a minor in English, and I ended up keeping my English literature class. It's mandatory, so I'd have had to retake it in January anyways if I'd chosen to drop it. Not the most exciting part of my week, but it was better than this American history class I took by accident._

_By the way, say sorry one more time and I might be forced to come to Switzerland and slap you._

_Thy (not so) humble servant, Louis Tomlinson_

_PS: Duh._

He covered his mouth to keep his laugh from escaping, trying his best to contain his giggles as he quickly typed out a reply. It wasn't his best work, and the spelling was cringe-worthy, but it was all he could do in such a short period of time. Someone cleared their throat nearby, and he glanced up to see Liam looking at him, a mix of exasperation and bemusement. Harry pouted.

 

"M'almost done."

 

"You're next." He stated simply.

 

Harry frowned at his phone, trying to get the words out faster than his rather large fingers could press the tiny buttons. "Almost... Done!" He said proudly, pressing send. He closed his phone and placed it back in his pocket, grinning at his friend. Liam rolled his eyes (the smile was still so obvious - he could never really pull off annoyed) and returned to his spot on the stage.

 

Harry followed, a slight bounce in his step that hadn't been there before.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"I'm alright, I swear. It's just this one tiny ingredient in the painkiller that I'm allergic too, and most painkillers don't even have it. There's only like, two of them that do or something. They're just going to keep me on what I had before and I'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

 

"It was still a really shitty mistake for them to make." Louis protested. Even twenty-four hours later he was still worried about the very sudden allergic reaction his friend had suffered. Weren't doctors supposed to keep that from happening?

 

"It happens Louis. At least I'm not dead."

 

"Not funny!" He snapped, making Stan sigh.

 

"Hey! Guess what movie the girls saw this weekend?" Hannah asked through the tension, breaking it rather effectively.

 

"Is it one I wanted to see? Fuck, I've been here so long I don't even know what movies are out now... Um... God I don't know. Tell me."

 

"Catching Fire."

 

"No!" He groaned, "I completely forgot that was coming out! Did they like it? Are you guys going to go see it?"

 

"I'm going to wait for it to come out on DVD, I think. But the girls really loved it, said it made them cry. I don't remember that being a good movie quality, but." He shrugged as if that made sense all on its own.

 

Stan groaned again, "I really wanted to see it."

 

"We'll watch it together then. After Christmas."

 

"Yeah, after Christmas."

 

It had become their saying ever since they accepted the surgery date on Christmas Eve. Everything was 'after Christmas'. All their plans were made for simply, _after Christmas_. Until then, it was just well-meant words and wishes. It was their light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel they had suddenly found themselves thrust into on that so, _so_ plain September afternoon.

 

Louis still had nightmares about it.

 

"Did you finish that project you were working on? The thing you needed to film for?"

 

"Yeah. It was a documentary-type thing. Kinda boring, but not super hard. Last year though. Almost over, thank God."

 

It was getting late, but they had all the time in the world - at least it felt that way sometimes. But Louis would look at the clock on the wall and remind himself that he didn't have all the time in the world. He didn't have any time at all.

 

At least it felt that way sometimes.

 

**OoOoO**

 

_I wasnt dissing mister... just pointing out its uncommenness. And switz is lovely! Havent seen the scenry much yet obvs since im still stuk in soundchck. I agree its super boring but its needed. Cant imaigne wut the sound be like witout it! Srry btw for speling. In soundcheck. No time._

_Drama! U seem the drama type - no fence! I mean that in good way. What kind of theatre? Like plays or improv?_

_Gtg, Liam is givin me the look._

_-Harry_

**OoOoO**

 

_Spelling truly worthy of the internet right there, Princey. I'll give you that much. That's a really long time to still be working on sound, did something fuck up? Something always fucks up don't it?_

_I've chosen not to take offence to that, because I fear it may be true. But can I really help it that life in itself is such a dramatic thing?? Actually, in my classes we did quite a bit of improv, and that was always one of my favourites. I love the tempo. You gotta think fast and act fast, mind you, I wasn't very good, but it's always good fun! I've also done a few plays, a lot of original stuff for my classes, but my last big thing was Grease back in High School. Playing Danny Zuko was a dream come true!_

_Are you into theatre at all? Or just music? If you weren't doing the whole music thing, what would you be doing right now? Wow, kinda seem interview-er-ish right now, woops._

_What does 'the look' entail exactly?_

_Just went to look up which one of you lot was 'Liam' (Hey! I've just heard your music for the first time ever, so give me a little bit of time to learn all your names. Sheesh.) and mate, I really doubt he can pull of any kind of look. He resembles an overgrown puppy. (Is that offensive? I don't think so.) Well, an overgrown puppy that weirdly resembles David Beckham._

_Hope the Switzerland concert goes well!_

_Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest._

_(20 points if you know where that's from!)_

_-Louis_

**OoOoO**

 

The after-concert rush was the absolute best and worst thing ever. It was the best because it was pure adrenaline, excitement and energy all rolled into a tight coil in their stomachs until they felt like they were going to burst. They had to get a release, which they did about half the time. Sometimes there simply wasn't any time after a concert, and they were being rushed elsewhere, and sometimes they were exhausted more than anything else.

 

The few times they did go out for a few drinks, that was usually when it became the worst thing ever. There were times they got lucky and got a private area that was almost completely private and that was nice. A few drinks between friends and sometimes some of the crew would join them and it was a nice little social event to let loose after a couple of stressful (yet wonderful!) hours.

 

At other times they had to go somewhere public and sometimes blended in until someone spotted them and started a miniature riot. What Harry found to be the worst thing, is what comes after the partying - if it could be construed as such. With Liam and Zayn in happy, committed relationships, they always had a couple beers, chatted about whatever came to mind and would eventually head in to maybe Skype or text their beloved until they fell asleep.

 

Harry was beyond happy for them, they were in love and happy and he genuinely liked spending time with both Sophia and Perrie, but that didn't make him any less jealous.

 

Niall, his only single mate, would have a few drinks, chat up a couple girls, but never take any of them home. The Irishman knew better. He was smart enough to see how much the womanizer imagine hurt his friend, and he wouldn't put that on himself for anything. He was trying to ease it off him a little bit with his incredibly obvious flirting with their lady interviewers, but there was only so much he could do with such a fixed image.

 

On top of that the poor girl, if he were to take any of them home, would suffer far too much backlash that simply wasn't worth it. Even the long-term girlfriends still got shit said about them left and right, he wasn't so cruel as to put that much attention on a girl who only wanted a one-night stand.

 

Fuck that, he said. He'd rather grow some permanent blue balls than be the reason some girl goes home to death threats.

 

Harry couldn't agree more, even if he did feel bad for Niall's obvious sexual frustration.

 

He'd be the first to admit, though, that he wasn't fairing much better on that side. Unlike Niall, he wasn't up for one-night stands. Call him whatever you like, but he thought romance and dates and first kisses were important before the whole sex thing happened. Not only was that hard to find, it was hard to keep.

 

His management had tried several times to set him up on dates with wannabe models, and one date was usually all it took for Harry to get bored, and for her to get her modeling contract.

 

The end. Rewind. Start over.

 

It fooled the fans most of the time, which made Harry extremely positive that their targeted audience should be aimed higher than 10 year olds. Those who saw through it all happened to be those who thought he was gay (or bisexual, which there were a few of those and he commended them for sticking to their guns and fighting the bi-shaming that happens so very often).

 

He very well could be bisexual, he has found girls fit before, but most of the ones in his surroundings tend to try too hard and it turns him off before they've spoken a handful of words. It didn't help that he could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes.

 

What he was looking for was someone long-term, because he believed in romance and wanted that kind of... 'forever' with someone. He wouldn't find it in a bar, not in any of those women, but maybe in a computer screen - or that was simply wishful thinking. (Most definitely wishful thinking).

 

He was absolutely sure about several things though. He wanted a cat, and maybe a dog if his future partner were so-inclined, and a big house and the typical picket fence. Two or three children running through the house and the giant backyard, with lots of room to play footie (which he would forever suck at playing, but the children would have a laugh and that'd be nice). They'd go camping and maybe do some fishing. Maybe they'd live on a ranch and they could get horses.

 

And if there was a mischievous, blue eyed, drama student in there somewhere in those images, well, no one would have to know.

 

**OoOoO**

"' _Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.'_ Where is that from?" Harry asked from his upside down position on the sofa.

 

That particular night - after the Switzerland concert - the boys had opted to stay inside the tour bus and do basically nothing until they passed out on some form of soft surface. Harry, as per usual, was on his phone, Zayn was at the open door smoking his last cigarette of the night, and Niall and Liam were playing FIFA a lot more quietly and passively than the game was meant to be played. It was a late, tired night for all of them.

 

"Why do you want to know?" Zayn asked.

 

Harry turned his head to stare at his overly attractive friend (still attractive upside down - damn), "Louis said it. Twenty points if I can guess where it's from."

 

"Isn't asking someone else cheating?" Liam pointed out as he let in another goal. They were in the double digits in goals on both sides, indicating how _not_ into their game the two were.

 

"He didn't specify any rules so I'm gonna go with no."

 

"So you're doing the messaging thing, then?" Zayn stuffed out his cigarette and stepped into the bus, closing the door and letting the area regain its lost heat.

 

"... I don't know what that means." Harry watched as he lay down in the middle of the floor, taking a sweater (God knows whose it was originally) and using it as a makeshift pillow.

 

"You're continuously, regularly contacting him." He explained, probably not as simply as he could have, but Harry understood and nodded.

 

With a woozy head he slowly pulled himself upright on the sofa, letting the blood flow the way it should, answering with a brief, "Yeah," as he did so.

 

"Hm... And is that going good for you?"

 

"I dunno, I mean... He's funny." He turned his eyes to his phone, staring at the blank box for a moment before finding his words and starting on a reply.

 

"D'you think you'll ever meet him?" Niall asked, his words heavy with fatigue.

 

Sometimes, Harry wished he could have a TARDIS just to take them all back in time and get more sleep.

 

"I don't think so. That'd be weird, wouldn't it? Meeting someone I've never met?"

 

There was a silence.

 

"Wait, that's not what I meant!" The group of boys laughed, louder and more intense due to their exhaustion. Laughing was nice. Once he'd calmed down some, he pouted at them, "Assholes. I meant like... Not knowing him, but kind of knowing him, and then going to see him... That's weird isn't it?"

 

"Harry, mate, you need some sleep." Niall said, laughter still bubbling out of his chest.

 

"Liam understands me, right Liam?"

 

"I get it," He agreed, "But it's not weird. Everyone meets people they, um, haven't met before nowadays. It's how the internet works."

 

"You sound like an old man." Harry muttered, and then sighed, "So... No one? ' _Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest'_? No takers? It's gotta be Shakespeare..." He frowned in thought until Zayn groaned loud enough to catch his attention.

 

"It's from Hamlet you twat. Did you not read it in school?"

 

"I did! But who remembers a line like that? Thanks though." He added, continuing his e-mail with his new knowledge.

 

"I'm with Harry on this one. I would have never guessed Hamlet. Are you sure it's Hamlet?" Liam asked.

 

"Yes. It's what Horatio says to Hamlet right after he dies."

 

"Wait, the dude talks from the grave?" Niall chirped in, pausing the game he and Liam had stopped paying attention to several minutes ago.

 

Zayn groaned, "No. Hamlet dies, not Horatio. And Horatio says the line to Hamlet's dead body."

 

"Sounds morbid." Niall pointed out.

 

Zayn let out an annoyed huff, but chose not to comment. At that point, Harry finished up his e-mail and put away his phone, reaching for his laptop instead.

 

"I'm going to record my video in the other bus."

 

"Okay, don't be up too late, leaving at six tomorrow for Germany." Liam reminded him.

 

"Yup." He stood up and carefully made his way to the door, doing his best not to step on any toes or on Zayn, managing to make it to the door with only a slight stumble midway. He'd get the hang of his two feet some day. "Later!" He called over his shoulder, closing the bus door behind himself.

 

Time to do his filming (finally!).

 

**OoOoO**

 

Dark screen. Click. Light. A darkened window was the backdrop to a head of ungelled curls, a light in the corner creating uneven shadows and the computer obviously in front of him casting a bluish glow over his face. Despite the rather crappy lighting, Harry was still visible enough and the sound quality made up for it. (Or he thought so, at least.)

 

"Hi!" He waved at the camera, "M'Harry Styles. It, um, took me a bit longer than expected to get this video done, but... It is what it is. It took me a little while to figure out a challenge, but I've gone with something that has to do with what we - the boys and I - do. They'll be making their own, um, videos at some point, by the way. I forgot to, uh, say that in my other... video. Anyways, yes. My challenge.

 

So, we're singers. I thought maybe you could sing for us. I had to look it up, and um, the term is busking, and it's singing on the streets for entertainment, basically. I thought that could, uh, be fun. Yes. That's my challenge. Do some busking." He said, over pronouncing the word 'busking' out of sheer interest with the word recently added to his vocabulary.

 

There was a pause.

 

"So, yup. I hope your quest is going well, and good luck! Bye bye!" He waved awkwardly at the camera, dimples on display for the world to see.

 

Click. Blank screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Busking? Where does he find this shit?" Louis said (far too fondly).

 

"Urban Dictionary probably." Hannah spun her seat slowly, thinking about the new challenge.

 

"Busking. It's like... Vocal prostitution. I don't know how I feel about that."

 

She stopped her seat and stared at him, picking her words extremely, extremely carefully. "You're an idiot."

 

"It's true, though! I'd be selling myself to the masses."

 

"Is it because you don't want to sing in public?"

 

"Do you honestly think I'm too shy to sing in public? I've done it countless times! Okay, not exactly in public, but in front of people. That's basically the same thing. M'just saying that asking someone to _busk_ is like asking someone to vocally prostitute themselves."

 

"Aw, poor baby. Are you too embarrassed to do this challenge?" She taunted him, a teasing smile on her lips.

 

"Fuck you. This challenge is going to be easy as pie." He said, throwing his pillow at her head, indignant about her mocking.

 

"Gonna take out the guitar? Play in the Town Square?" She played an air guitar, bopping her head to a non-existent beat.

 

"I guess it was a good thing I picked it back up when I went to college. Used to annoy the Hell out of Stan by playing at three in the morning."

 

"Why the fuck were you playing at three in the morning?"

 

"Hey, anything to keep me from doing homework." He laughed, shaking his head, "S'why I almost failed my first year."

 

"Well, I'm going to look through more e-mails, and I figure you're going to watch that video a couple more times before you do anything productive, so get started on that." She threw back the pillow and turned to the desktop.

 

"I wasn't going to watch it again, but since you suggested it..." He said brattily, fixing the laptop screen from where he had had it tilted to be visible for both himself and Hannah while they watched Harry's second video.

 

"Mhm..."

 

"Shut up."

 

"You're the one in love with him, not me."

 

"M'not in love with him. He's just horribly attractive. That's all."

 

"Uhuh."

 

"Shh."

 

He pressed play.

 

**OoOoO**

Dark screen. Click. Light.

 

"Hiya there! Let's get straight into it, shall we? Most of you already know what my next challenge is going to be, if not there's a link to bring you to Mister Styles' video. For those who don't know, and who are too lazy to click the link, I'm going to be taking out my trusty guitar," He held up the black guitar case to the screen and then pressed it against his chest possessively, "And we're gonna go do some street performing! Which is a _lot_ less dirty than it sounds, unfortunately. So we're gonna get out of my bedroom - and now _that_ sounded really dirty," He smirked at the camera, "Let's get to the streets!"

 

Black screen. Click. Light. Scene change. Louis was in front of the camera, a store behind him and people noisily walking around, but nowhere to be seen on the screen.

 

"Hi again! Hannah and I've made our way to a street, which, can't say was very difficult to find. So, I took yesterday to practice a bit, but it's still going to be very shitty so... Have fun with that. I only know a couple songs and my taste isn't very... Mainstream I think is the word for it? Yeah, mainstream. Well, whatever. A challenge is a challenge, I guess. Just warning you in advance." Louis shrugged, taking a moment to look around and then pointing in the distance.

 

The camera shifted in the direction he was pointing, showing a larger area that was cut off from traffic, indicating its use for pedestrians only. There was some sort of large building in the distance, (a community center probably), and more shops around the pedestrian-only space, most of which were blurred out by how many people were walking past in front of the camera, close and far.

 

The camera turned back to Louis, "There's not a ton of people, but what can you expect out of a Thursday afternoon, right? So that's where I'm gonna perform and hope for the best, I suppose." He shrugged and gave a double thumbs up at the camera around his guitar case.

 

Black screen. Click. Light. Scene change. The camera was tilted slightly upwards, hinting at Hannah's seated position (against a streetlight post and not just in the middle of the walkway, because rude), and Louis was standing several feet ahead of her, almost exactly centered in the large, open area, with his acoustic guitar in hand. The black case was placed next to him, the lid closed. He grinned at her briefly, then took a moment to look at the ground, visibly composing himself before he began to strum the guitar.

 

The song that came out was no doubt The Fray's ' _Over My Head_ '. Louis was notably not a professional, but he played well enough to make it clear what song he was playing, while managing to sing out the lyrics on note and beautifully in his tenor range. It was a rather crowded area, but luckily Louis was loud by nature, allowing the camera to pick up his voice well enough to be coherent.

 

He started from the chorus, slipping into the third verse easily, " _Suddenly I become a part of your past, I'm becoming the part that don't last. I'm losing you and it's effortless, without a sound we lose sight of the ground in the throw around. Never thought that you wanted to bring it down. I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves..._ " Then going back to the chorus a couple times, and somehow seamlessly flowing into a second song.

 

Flipping from the slight uptempo chorus into a slower verse, he started up Coldplay's ' _The Scientist_ ', creating a link between the songs' themes.

 

" _Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry. You don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I'll set you apart. Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me. Oh and I rush to the start, running in circles, chasing our tails. Coming back as we are._ " He sang, mixing up two of the verses and falling into the chorus, finishing with, " _I'm going back to the start, oh..._ "

 

That's when he changed into a third song, making up a sort-of medley.

 

" _Going back to the corner where I first saw you, gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move. Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand saying, "If you see this girl can you tell her where I am?" Some try to hand me money, they don't understand. I'm not broke - I'm just a broken-hearted man. I know it makes no sense but what else can I do? How can I move on when I'm still in love with you?_ "

 

The third song was The Script's ' _The Man Who Can't Be Moved_ ', a good finish to the three-part mash-up. He went from the first verse, to the chorus, skipping to the third verse, and closing the song with the chorus and the last two lines of the song.

 

" _Going back to the corner where I first saw you, gonna camp in my sleeping bag. I'm not gonna move..._ "

 

A crowd had formed throughout the song's progression and they applauded when he was finished. Louis smiled shyly, humbled but pleased. He bowed outlandishly, earning a couple laughs from the onlookers. One woman stepped up to him, pointing at the closed guitar case while saying... something. Unfortunately, her voice was too low to be caught by the camera. Whatever she said somehow managed to make Louis go bright red, causing Hannah to giggle from behind the screen.

 

Louis nodded and the woman proceeded to bend over and flip open the guitar case, dropping in several coins. He thanked her as well as the next several people to do the same thing, blushing profusely at the compliment it conveyed.

 

The scene cut to a moment later, the crowd had moved on and Louis had regained his normal colouring. Hannah was laughing quietly in the background, amused by her friend's discomfort. Louis flipped her the bird. She laughed louder.

 

It cut again to a few second later, Louis had his guitar in playing position and he started strumming out a familiar song.

 

"Oh my God, you didn't!" Hannah said off-screen, amused and surprised.

 

"I did." He grinned and started up the lyrics to what he considered the most classic of classics, " _I got chills, they're multiplying, and I'm losing control. 'Cause the power you're supplying, it's electrifying!_ "

 

It was slower than the original, and sung solo instead of its intended purpose as a duet, but it remained the infamous Grease song, ' _You're The One That I Want_ '. People walking past did a double-take at the familiar tune, and many stopped if only for a couple lines.

 

Soon the song was over and the crowd gave a loud applause, dropping coins and bills into the open guitar case. He once more bowed and thanked the audience, appreciative of all the positive energy.

 

Another cut. It opened up with the camera much closer to Louis; catching him clicking shut his guitar case. He grabbed it and stood up, smiling at the camera. "I guess we'll wrap this up at home. See you there!"

 

Black screen. Click. Light. Scene change. Louis was back in his bedroom, which had quickly become the standard setting for most of his videos.

 

"Alright! Home sweet home and all that jazz. So! That was me, uh, _busking_ which is the technical term for it. Yeah, I know. It went, um, a little bit better than I thought it would, which is great. Made like twenty bucks, which is of course going into the surgery, but that was... Unexpected. Some people just love the classics! And yes, Grease is a classic and I have a five page essay proving it too so don't fight me on this." He gave the camera what should have been a threatening look, but instead he came out looking more like a baby Simba. Close enough.

 

"That's the challenge completed, Mister Styles, hope it was to your satisfaction! I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who's donated so far, we're past 9 thousand pounds, which is absurd. Thank you, I really can't say it enough. Keep on donating and sending me messages and challenges, and I'll do what I can to make it happen. Thank you, again. Love you!"

 

Click. Blank screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

The audience in Milan was brilliant, as were all of their audiences, to be honest. Loud, and bright, and interactive, and always so different from each other. Every night was special and spectacular. Or so Harry would say. Plus, they're fans would always let them get away with doing stupid things on stage, so they didn't bat an eye when he took out his phone to take a beautiful panoramic shot of the audience. He noticed Louis' e-mails (3? He must be really bored), but put away his phone to start up the next song. He'd get to them when they went to change for the second half of the show.

 

Not that he had much time during their mid-show change to answer either.

 

He read the first message - out of 7, which indicated incredible boredom or something else altogether -, and it was comprised of one simple sentence.

 

_You are fucking RIDICULOUS._

 

Probably something else, he thought, frowning at the capital letters. It was more aggressive than Louis' normal typing style, and Harry had gotten accustomed to the other boy's unique form of sarcasm over their numerous e-mails to each other and that definitely wasn't it. Ignoring the other messages for now, he took the little time he did have to write a short reply, attaching his -gorgeous!- picture of the Milan audience, because even an angry (frustrated or irritated, whatever the case may be) person can appreciate a nice picture.

 

_Hi. Costume change. Here's Milan! Why am I ridiculous?_

_H x._

Thankfully he was able to press send before Caroline was coming up to him, her palm outstretched and her expression one of utmost exasperation. He sighed, handing over his phone. He wasn't going to use it during the show! (Again.) But he didn't bother fighting an already lost cause.

 

He slipped into his second outfit and met up with the other boys on their lifts, giving them a thumbs up to show all was well.

 

"Five... four... three..." One of the crew counted down, and on "One!" the lifts went up.

 

Part two of the show was as great as the first half, but there was a small part of his mind that refused to stop thinking about those e-mails. Because, well... He was damn curious! So much so, that the first thing he did when the show was over was take his phone back from a laughing Caroline.

 

"I think you've got an addiction, Harry!" She said, fishing his phone out of her pocket.

 

"Maybe." He quipped, averting his full attention onto the small device, not hearing her laughter, or that of his bandmates. He slipped onto one of the sofas in the changing room, laying down and tapping away on his phone.

 

There were now 13 messages spanning over the last two and a half hours including the one he'd already read, that went along the lines of...

 

_You are fucking RIDICULOUS._

_I mean it. The most ridiculous person I've ever not met._

_You're so bloody stupid I don't know how to put it into words._

_You're not stupid. Just absurd. Completely absurd._

_Why would you even???_

_I don't understand. At all._

_I hate you._

_No I don't, that was mean. Sorry._

_Still mad though._

_I can't believe you would even do something like that. Actually I can believe it, but it's still so STUPID and I don't even know how to put into words how angry I am._

_BTW nice picture of Milan. It's really pretty. But I'm still mad._

_Hannah says I should be thankful, and I am of course, but that doesn't make you any less ridiculous. You twat._

_Does this come across as ungrateful? Probably, and that's not what I mean... It's wonderful and everything, but it's too much and I won't accept it. Hope your show is going well, by the way._

The last one was sent about ten minutes ago. He frowned at his phone, taking a minute to re-read the messages and try to figure out what he could possibly have done to upset Louis so much.

 

"What's got you making a face like that?" Niall asked, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa, changed out of his show clothes and into something comfy.

 

"I think I did something wrong... But I don't know what."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Louis' really mad about something. He doesn't really say what though..." Harry continued to shift through the different e-mails.

 

"Well, what _does_ he say?"

 

"Take a look for yourself. It's the thirteen messages in my inbox." Harry handed his phone over to Niall.

 

"That's a lot of messages." He pointed out, opening up the first message and making his way up.

 

"They're all really short." Harry commented into the silence, waiting for his friend to finish.

 

At that moment, Liam and Zayn entered the room, washed up and changed like their blonde friend. It was probably time for him to change as well, but he was far too preoccupied to bother. His two other bandmates seated themselves on the adjoining sofa, all of them buzzed and exhausted at the same time.

 

"What's wrong, Harry?" Liam asked, worried by Harry's frown.

 

"Louis' mad at him." Niall replied for him.

 

"What for?"

 

"Dunno, it doesn't say. But here, check 'em out." Niall tossed the phone over to the two other boys, ignoring Harry's protest about his phone not being a projectile.

 

Liam grabbed the phone and held it so both he and Zayn could see, looking back up once he saw the number of messages, "Which message is it?"

 

"All of them." Harry said, sighing heavily. "I don't know what I did. At all."

 

Liam just nodded and started up on the messages with Zayn reading over his shoulder. There was silence while they read, heavily weighed down by Harry's brooding. It only took them a minute to get through the thirteen messages.

 

"Harry, you put your donation in this morning right?" Zayn asked.

 

"Yeah, what does that have to do with anything?" Harry turned to look at his bandmate, waiting for him to continue.

 

"Did you, by any chance, discuss the amount with Louis beforehand?"

 

"... No? Do you think that's why he's mad? I don't get it. Why would he be mad about that?"

 

"Maybe you should be asking him." Zayn took the phone from Liam and tossed it back to Harry, who attempted to catch it - and failed. He picked it up off the floor, checked it for cracks (none, thank goodness), and clicked on the last message. Zayn was right, he should just message Louis and ask him what was wrong.

 

"Did you guys want to do something tonight? Or another night in?" Liam asked the group, his tone heavily implying that the second option was favourable.

 

The general consensus was in fact a night in, and so they gathered their belongings and headed for the bus, Harry keeping his eyes on his phone the majority of the time as he composed his reply. Of course, he took the time to bid goodnight to the staff and his friends, like always. The four boys ended up on the 'play' bus as they called it, where they went if they wanted to be rowdy. The other was the sleep bus where they... Slept. Shocking.

 

By the time he was settled on one of the sofas, his reply was composed and re-read several times. With a heavy heart (he hated when people were angry with him, no matter what the issue was, or whether or not the other person had cause to be mad. A kind heart was a burden he was forced to bear...), he pressed send.

 

"Cheer up, mate, it'll work out." Liam patted his shoulder gently, a kind smile on his lips.

 

Harry made a lost sound and pouted. Liam shook his head and sighed, taking a seat and letting his friend brood. There was nothing he could say when Harry was like this, and all he could do was sit with him and wait it out.

 

Niall turned on the television and proceeded to start up the Xbox, letting the intro to Halo wash over the room thanks to their (rather amazing) surround sound system. He and Zayn picked up the controllers and clicked on the co-op campaign option. If they were doing the 'sitting around in silence' thing, then they would do it while having fun at least.

 

Harry pulled his phone back to his face, clicking on his sent folder and opening up his last message. Surely Louis would have answered him by now... It had been a couple minutes and Louis was usually pretty fast at getting back to him, especially since he was on no more than twenty minutes ago. Anxious, he re-read his message to see if he'd said anything wrong that would give Louis reason to pause in his reply.

 

_Hiii :)_

_I see you're upset about something I did... And I'm sorry, but I don't really know what it is that I did wrong? I'm sorry for whatever it is, but if you could maybe clarify? That'd be nice._

_So, yeah, sorry._

_Glad you liked the picture of Milan. The concert went really well!_

_H x._

Harry knew he was an awkward person at times and he was generally okay with that, but his message was even too awkward for him to bear. He should have taken time to think about what he wanted to say before just typing up whatever came to mind and sending it out. He also should have changed, but that was another matter altogether. The almost overwhelming anxiety about his e-mail was cast to the side when his phone beeped with an alert. One new e-mail.

 

Frustrated with his own fast-beating heart, he quickly thumbed open the e-mail to get his fears over with. It read...

 

_Harold! You've finished your concert? Excellent! Now it won't feel like I'm talking to a wall._

_The problem here, young Harold, is that you put ten fucking grand in my donation box which we should have discussed ahead of time because there is no way I would have approved of this idiocy. I understand that you did it because you're a kind person, but I'm not having it. You need to take the money back._

_That's pretty much it. Just take it back. Please._

_Thank you,_

_L xx._

Zayn looked at him from his spot on the floor, an almost apologetic smirk on his lips, "I was right, wasn't I?"

 

"Yeah." He said distractedly. He didn't quite _get_ it. "I don't get it. Why would he accept the challenge if he didn't want my money? How is this supposed to make any sense?!"

 

"You'll figure it out." Zayn turned back to the video game, proving to be very unhelpful in this situation.

 

Harry let out a long sigh. He should just e-mail Louis back. Even if he was scared of coming off as even more awkward than he already had...

 

He typed something up, sent off his e-mail, and placed his phone on his belly, resting it there in anticipation for the reply. He hoped it was less awkward than his last e-mail, but that wasn't the case as he'd somehow managed to ask for Louis' number in the midst of their... argument-that-wasn't-quite-a-fight.

 

He figured that if he didn't understand and Louis wanted to vent, surely it would be easier for the both of them if they could communicate over the phone instead of through written words. That made complete sense, right? Right.

 

His fingers tapped idly against the phone, waiting impatiently for the little vibration that would signify a response. On the TV screen the points for the boys' first round of Halo appeared, showing Niall as the winner. The bottle blonde whooped victoriously, grinning brightly and sticking out his tongue at his bandmates, who laughed and rolled their eyes.

 

Harry smiled with them, but couldn't bring himself to laugh. The butterflies in his stomach were more intense than before walking on a new stage for the first time, and that was a level of nervousness that was hard to beat.

 

When the reply took more than a minute, his fingers started tapping more and more rapidly, making a beat he couldn't bring himself to name. Maybe he shouldn't have asked for his number... Was that too obvious? What if he came off as creepy? That'd be even worse! He cringed at the thought, poking Liam (the nearest to him) to get his attention.

 

"I did something stupid, I think." He said, morosely.

 

"What did you do?" Liam asked, pausing their second match to look at him, getting the other two boys' attention in the process.

 

"I may have asked for his number?"

 

Liam stared at him for a moment, visibly debating what to say, "Um... I'm sure it'll be fine, Harry. I mean, the worse he can do is say no." Seeing Harry cringe again, he quickly added, "But I'm sure he won't!" Just then, the phone vibrated and Liam sighed, relieved that he didn't need to think of something else to say.

 

As for Harry, he could hardly unlock his phone fast enough. He read through the message quickly, his eyes latching onto the numbers more than the letters.

 

"Yes!" He shouted happily, pumping his arm into the air, startling his friends.

 

"I think he got his number." Niall stage whispered to Liam and Zayn, who nodded in agreement.

 

Quite suddenly, Harry pulled back his arm and his expression morphed into something akin to nausea. "Oh God, that means I have to talk to him. Like proper. With my voice. What if I say something stupid? What if I get nervous and I start telling jokes? And we all know my jokes are awful. Fuck, I can't do it." He flipped himself over on the sofa, landing on his stomach with an 'oomph'. He buried his face in the headrest, one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone and hanging off the side of the couch.

 

Niall leaned over Liam and took the phone out of his hand, taking a second to pat Harry on the head affectionately.

 

"Relax, mate. If he didn't want to talk to you he wouldn't have given you his number. He's probably just as nervous as you are." Zayn said.

 

(He was.)

 

"I doubt it. He's all cool and collected-" (Not really.) "and I'm... Not."

 

"You charm the pants off people every day, this isn't any different." Liam said, "If you can sing at Madison Square Garden, I think you should be able to talk to some boy."

 

"Yeah, but he's not just some boy, Liam! He's... Special." He whispered softly, losing himself in thoughts of blue eyes and cheeky grins.

 

"Well, I think we'll head off to the other bus to sleep," Niall started, getting up to turn off the Xbox and the TV, "While you talk to Louis."

 

"What? You can't leave me! What if I say something stupid? You have to be here to comfort me when I fuck up, and I will, you know I will." Harry's breathing was starting to accelerate, but the boys knew that once the first step was taken he'd be just fine. It wasn't the first time Harry was nervous about something.

 

Liam and Zayn got up as well, giving their curly-haired bandmate a smile, "Yeah, I'm really knackered." Liam agreed with the Irishman, Zayn nodding along with him.

 

"But, but - you can't!" Harry continued to protest. Of course in his head he knew he was being silly, it really was just a phone call, but he couldn't help it.

 

"You'll be fine, Harry. Look, you don't even have to call him because..." Niall pressed a button on the phone and quickly handed it to Harry, "It's already ringing. Good luck! You'll be fine, just breathe."

 

Harry stared flabbergasted as his bandmates left the bus, the ringing cell phone held loosely in his hand. Slowly, without really realizing it, he brought the phone up to his ear. The ringing was buzzing in his ear, making him feel lightheaded for some reason. Or maybe that was because he wasn't breathing. Remembering what Niall said, he took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself. It was just a phone call.

 

Just a phone call, just a phone call...

 

Little did Harry know that a couple countries away Louis was having the exact same thoughts as he stared at the ringing phone in his own hands, nearly too nervous to answer it.

 

Yet there was nothing he wanted more than to hear Harry's voice, talking to him, saying hello... And he pressed the little green button.

 

"Hello?"

 

Harry didn't notice the breathlessness in Louis' greeting, too busy trying to control his own nerves as he let out a small, "Hi..."

 

"Hi." Louis echoed back at him. There was a brief second of awkward silence as they both tried to collect themselves.

 

For some strange reason, Harry didn't know the psychology behind it, he felt the need to diffuse the tension with comedy. "Knock knock."

 

"Who's there?" Louis answered back immediately, like most people already knowing the motions of the joke.

 

It was so nice to hear his voice speaking to him and not at him for a change. It was so, so nice, Harry thought, soaking it in.

 

"Little old lady..."

 

"Little old lady who?"

 

"I didn't know you could yodel!" Harry exclaimed his punch line, laughing out of awkwardness more than out of sincerity.

 

There was a second where he felt immense dread. He'd been right to assume he'd make a fool of himself, and they'd hardly spoken two words yet! He could do this any day of the week, with actors and singers known all across the globe yet this _man_ , a footie playing drama student, left him completely bewildered and nervous and sweaty. God, his palms were so sweaty. Why did he have to go and tell a joke? He knew his jokes were bad, why would he think it was a good idea to go there?

 

Louis laughed.

 

A bubble of laughter reached Harry through the speaker, and he couldn't contain the enormous grin that spread across his face. His laughter was genuine and absolute music to his ears.

 

_Louis laughed at his awful joke._

 

**OoOoO**

Harry woke up the next morning, a terrible crick in his neck and a blanket wrapped around him that he couldn't remember getting up to grab. He slowly pulled himself into a seated position on the sofa he'd fallen asleep on the night before, letting the blanket fall to his side. With a frown of confusion he looked around the bus, taking in the fact that the bus was stopped and it was only him and the driver currently there.

 

Oh right, they were on their way to Spain.

 

"Did you get me the blanket?" He asked the bus driver, as that was apparently the foremost thought in his head at the present moment.

 

The driver turned off the bus, got up and stretched, turning around to look at Harry, "Yeah. Got in here at quarter to five and there you were, passed out. Turned your phone off too. That'll make a nice bill for ya." He said with a chuckle. "We're stopping for gas, by the way, and breakfast. Head out if you want something, the other boys should be up by now."

 

Harry cringed at the thought of the bill. Although he had the money, he still wasn't used to getting huge bills. Or bills at all, to be perfectly honest. His eyes found his European phone resting on the floor next to the sofa where he must have dropped it in his sleep. He picked it up and turned it on, sighing at the red bar in the little battery image signaling 5 percent life left. Before putting it away to charge, he took a look at his last phone call.

 

It was an unknown phone number, as he hadn't had the time to add Louis to his contacts yet, and the call duration was 7 hours and 45 minutes. They'd fallen asleep at some point around 4 in the morning, meaning they'd spoken for about 6 hours.

 

He hadn't had a phone call last that long since... A very long time ago.

 

He was exhausted, of course, but it was worth it. Getting to talk to Louis, getting to know him, getting to hear his voice and his sarcasm and his stories and his laughter... And just as importantly as all that, a forgiveness for upsetting him. They'd both apologized, Harry had refused to take the money back, and Louis had accepted the kindness even if he was still reluctant on the matter.

 

Something about not wanting to use his friendship for money, which the mere thought of them having a _friendship_ made his heart skip a beat. Louis called Harry kind, but he would be quick to say the same about the Donny lad.

 

The matter had hardly taken ten minutes of their time, and they'd easily moved on to other subjects and topics, shared stories and jokes. It was so lovely.

 

Harry could hardly wait to tell the other boys about it.

 

Right after adding Louis to his contact list of course, putting a little heart next to his name because why not?

 

It was a good start to the day and it wasn't even nine o'clock yet.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Ugh... Going to sleep at 3 in the morning was a terrible idea, even if he was 21 years old and hadn't had a drop of alcohol. He was exhausted, and the beeping in his ear was frustrating beyond belief. Annoyed, he opened his eyes and moved his head to glare at the cordless phone he'd fallen asleep with still in his hand. Now it was just resting on the pillow, innocently beeping the dial tone at him.

 

It took a moment for the prior night's happenings to return to him, and he slowly brought a hand to rub at his eyes, sighing to himself. Fuck. Had he fallen asleep on Harry? His voice was just so damn soothing, and it was late, and he'd been tired and his frustration with the money ordeal had tuckered him out, despite the fact that they'd resolved the issue in a matter of minutes.

 

Damn. Fuck. Shit.

 

"Fuck." He drawled out, sighing again. Hopefully Harry hadn't taken it personally. He wasn't the type, but Louis couldn't help being irritated with himself.

 

They were having such a great talk, too. For a super famous popstar Harry was surprisingly down to earth, and funny -even with the terrible jokes-, and all around a wonderful human being. Which made it harder for Louis to insist it was just a stupid, silly little boy crush.

 

Yet he'd gone and fallen asleep on him.

 

He turned onto his side and stared at his alarm clock, frowning at the red digits. It was nine. Too early to get out of bed, too late to stay in bed, dilemma, dilemma.

 

In the end he decided he might as well get up and have a productive morning. He had to go to work at noon (thank God for late starts), and he wanted to get something done before then. The first thing he did was turn on the desktop and quickly type out an e-mail to Harry.

 

Not because he needed to talk to him. They'd spoken hardly hours before, after all. But because he wanted to apologize for falling asleep on him. That had been terribly rude of him and an apology was definitely in order... He ignored the fact that Harry would definitely not give a damn and that it could still have waited until later.

 

It wasn't because he needed to talk to him. He just...

 

Why was he trying to make excuses to himself?

 

He sent off the e-mail, taking some time to sort through his inbox. Maybe Harry took only a minute to answer him, and maybe he did the same, and maybe it went that way until it was past 11:30 and he was going to be late to work. Maybe he only left his seat at the last possible second, grabbing a granola bar for breakfast and forgetting his tea - he never forgets his tea.

 

Even if that did happen, it didn't mean anything.

 

Nope. Not a thing.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Niall is absurd." Louis went onto his tippy toes to grab the vanilla extract, taking precaution to make sure that really was the ingredient he was holding in his hand.

 

"Only sometimes." Harry's voice reached him from where he'd left the cordless phone on the counter, the speakerphone option on.

 

Louis took a teaspoon out of the drawer and headed to the bowl containing the other ingredients. The kitchen counter was a bit of a mess, but he really couldn't care less at the moment.

 

Completely typical, his youngest sisters had come to him right before their 8 o'clock bedtime to tell him they needed cookies for school the next day as they had some sort of Halloween potluck thing. With their mom doing the night shifts that week, the task fell on him, and even though the twins had shared a look, they'd left him to it. After putting the girls to bed, and making sure the older two were doing what they should be, he found himself a recipe and got started on it.

 

Luckily for him Harry had time for a call (even though it was 6 a.m in Melbourne, Australia - he had weird hours sometimes), and over the last couple weeks he'd learned through their couple hundred e-mails and dozen calls that Harry was quite the cook. When Louis asked for his help the singer had been more than happy to give him tips.

 

"Don't do what I think you're going to do." Harry warned, and Louis quickly set straight the vanilla extract bottle he was close to pouring into his teaspoon.

 

Despite the fact that Harry couldn't actually see him, he felt like he'd been caught red-handed doing something wrong.

 

"What?" He asked.

 

"What do you have in your hands?"

 

"I need two teaspoons of vanilla extract. So I have a teaspoon and the vanilla extract." He said, not seeing the point.

 

"You don't actually use a teaspoon to calculate a teaspoon in cooking. You use a measuring spoon. You'll find one somewhere, probably. A teaspoon is 5 millilitres, so if you can find one that has a little 5 on it you'll be good."

 

Louis sighed and started digging through the drawers for measuring spoons, "That's dumb. Why not use a teaspoon to measure teaspoons? And why am I using an American recipe?"

 

"Because I'm the one who googled the recipe for you and the first good one I found happened to be American." Harry explained.

 

"That was a rhetorical question, genius." Louis teased lightly, smiling as he pulled out what he was looking for. "Got it! Yeah, like I was saying, Niall's absurd. But my sisters loved making the poster. It's all pink and sparkly and incredibly embarrassing."

 

The prior day Niall had put up his very own challenge video for Louis' Quest. His challenge was simple. Louis had to make a poster, however he liked, that said ' _Honk for 1D_ ' and he had to hold it up on the busiest street he could find. Getting ten honks would complete the challenge. Definitely far more embarrassing than singing in public, if he was perfectly honest.

 

Not that he didn't enjoy their music, but... Well.

 

Harry laughed loudly and unabashedly. He often did when he talked to Louis. "Well, I look forward to seeing it."

 

"It's a real masterpiece, I tell ya'. My sisters are the next Picasso. Or Michelangelo or whatever."

 

"Don't pour over the bowl." Harry advised, once again somehow knowing what he was going to do seconds before he did it. Louis took a step to the left and poured over the counter - not like it wasn't already dirty from the flour and eggs anyways. "Isn't Michelangelo a ninja turtle?"

 

Now it was Louis turn to laugh, causing some of the vanilla extract to drip onto his fingers. He emptied the measuring spoon into the bowl, did it a second time, then went to wash his hands in the sink. "Technically yes, but he's also some sort of artist. I'm pretty sure he's a painter." He returned to the bowl on the counter and started to mix the contents, watching as the concoction became a brownish colour.

 

"Hm... Oh, by the way..."

 

Hearing the tone, Louis immediately let go of the mixing spoon and picked up the phone, turning off the speakerphone and resting it against his ear. "What is it?" He asked.

 

"I know we agreed to talk about this stuff, so I thought I should let you know that the other boys will be matching my donation."

 

Louis leant against the counter, taking a moment to think on the words. That would make a total of fourty grand from the boys from One Direction alone. (A small part of him hoorayed that he finally remembered how many other boys were in the band, and he could name them and tell them apart too, hah!)

 

"Harold, that's fourty fucking grand. That's a shit-tonne of money."

 

The idea of fourty grand being donated just like that was staggering to him. Fourty grand was his student loan, that was a huge chunk of the surgery, that could buy a brand new car. That was so much money, he could hardly wrap his head around it.

 

"Yeah..." He could hear the guilt in his voice, and he felt instantly guilty too. He knew Harry was wary of upsetting him ever since the incident a couple weeks prior, and he hated it.

 

"Look, I don't want you to feel guilty about doing something so fucking generous. I just... I wasn't upset, well yes I was, but not at you, Harry. I was just..." Louis found it hard to explain why he didn't like the situation and he was frustrated that he couldn't find the words. It made sense in his head, but when it came to saying it out loud, it simply didn't translate well.

 

"I know." Harry said softly, losing the guilty tone and regaining his usual cheerful lift.

 

"You're all very generous and absurdly kind, and I... If I weren't so fucking desperate I would never-"

 

Harry cut him off, continuing in his gentle tone, "I know."

 

Louis stared down at his feet, fighting back a smile. He suddenly felt fourteen again with his very first crush. It was almost like floating.

 

"I know you'll insist, and I'm sure they would too if I talked to them, and I'm not really in the position to refuse either, but um... Can I ask why? Why are you guys choosing to donate this money? I don't get it, Harry." He rubbed his bare foot against the floor awkwardly, the feeling of being uncertain about his words new and unfamiliar territory.

 

Harry paused, and Louis could hear his steady breath on the line. Maybe he'd overstepped the line here, maybe he shouldn't have asked... But he had the right to know, didn't he? Why was Harry hesitating? He didn't want to be a charity case, and he knew that Harry knew that. Maybe he didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to hurt his feelings with the truth. That this whole thing was just a charity act and nothing... else.

 

Not that it mattered if it wasn't anything... else.

 

Of course it was some charity thing, that's how celebrities worked. They found a cause, kept with it, and once it was done - bam. Instant reputation boost. The end.

 

His hand clenched around the phone. He didn't want there to be an end. Talking with Harry was so simple and lovely and wonderful and the highlight of his days. It was already a habit after only three weeks. Maybe that's why it would be best to end it right away, he thought to himself.

 

"I... If the situation were reversed, wouldn't you have done the same for me?" Harry asked, his voice small and hopeful.

 

Louis felt himself flush, embarrassed that the first thought to come to mind was, ' _of course_ '. The idea of his beautiful dimpled grin gone and replaced with teary doe-eyes as he asked the world for donations, well... It was a no-brainer.

 

"Yeah, yeah of course I would, Harry." He loosened his grip on the phone and rubbed at his cheek, trying to get rid of the blush. Somehow, that answered all of his questions. He didn't know what it meant for them, but it was enough to sooth him. (And Harry.)

 

And that was that.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Dark screen. Click. Light. Louis appeared onscreen in his bedroom, sitting in his usual seat. He gave the camera a small wave.

 

"Hello and welcome! As many of you are probably aware, I've been given a challenge by one Mister Niall Horan, whose name you may recognize. Link to his video in the description as always. His challenge is simple enough. Make myself a poster with the words ' _Honk for 1D_ ' written on it, which I've done..." He leaned to the side to grab the poster, explaining as he did so, "I've mentioned I have four little sisters, right? So of course they were more than happy to lend me a hand with this project."

 

He straightened up and held the poster to the camera, grinning proudly. The poster was definitely very sparkly and colourful, the use of markers, crayons, stickers, and glitter evident. In bold was the instructed message, ' _Honk for 1D_ '.

 

"Awesome, innit?" He gently placed it to the side, fixing his fringe quickly, and then clapping his hands together in excitement, "And I gotta take it out to a road somewhere and get myself ten honks. So Hannah and I are going to find ourselves a lovely stretch of road, I'll see you in just a moment." He swiped his hand in front of the camera lens.

 

Black screen. Click. Light. Scene change. Louis was on the side of the road, the poster in his hand. On one side of him was an unidentifiable stretch of highway and on the other side was an empty field. He was lucky to go out during the short amount of time that the weather was cooperative, almost sunny out with only a little bit of wind. He held the poster in front of his chest and spoke to the camera.

 

"And we're back! The challenge will officially end once I've gotten ten honks. Let's get right into it, shall we?"

 

On the bottom left of the screen appeared a little timer, counting how long it would take to get to ten honks, and on the bottom right was a ' _Honks_ ' counter.

 

He stood on the side of the road in his black jeans and white vans t-shirt, matching the one's on his feet, and he held up the sign proudly. It was definitely embarrassing to some degree, but he genuinely had nothing bad to say about the band, as they'd done nothing but be enormously kind and generous to him.

 

They were in England, where the One Direction fanbase more or less started, and it took less than ten minutes to get the ten honks he needed to complete the challenge. The video fast forwarded at some points and skipped completely ahead at others, the clock moving with the different edit choices, as well as the honk metre going up as they appeared in the video. When Louis got his tenth honk, he took one hand off the poster and gave the vehicle a huge thumbs up, afterwards making his way to the camera, a toothy grin in place.

 

"And that's the challenge completed! See you back at the house." Once again he swiped his hand in front of the camera lens.

 

Black screen. Click. Light. Scene change. Louis had returned to his seat, the poster visible on his bed in the background.

 

"We're back! It took nine and a half minutes to get the ten honks which was a lot quicker than I'd expected, no offence lads. I hope this has met your expectations Mister Horan, and a huge thank you for taking part in this... Charity." He was slowly coming to terms with the word, though he still really hated it.

 

"A big thank you to everyone who's donated so far, it means so much. We've reached 40, 239.50 pounds as of this very second. We're almost halfway there guys! Let's keep at it. Keep spreading the word and doing what you can. Even if you can't donate, and I completely understand that, if you can share this video then you've done more than enough, really. Thank you so, so much everybody. Have a good one, love you!"

 

Click. Blank screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Louise Teasdale set the camera on the pedestal while the One Direction boys sat themselves down on a black leather sofa. They were now in the stadium in Sydney, Australia on the last of their three days off until the next string of concerts to begin the next night. They'd enjoyed some time in the sun and at the beach, then finally gathered together to record their third challenge video for Louis' Quest, the first video they would do as a group.

 

"You boys ready?" She asked once they had settled down.

 

"Just a sec." Harry had his phone out, typing away furiously at the little touch-keyboard.

 

"He's too busy texting Loverboy." Niall stage-whispered, earning himself a slap on the arm from his bandmate.

 

"It's an e-mail, not a text. And he isn't Loverboy." Harry said indignantly.

 

"Mhm." Lou hummed softly, sharing a look with the other boys.

 

"Shut up." Harry whined as he put away his cell phone, They all laughed for a moment and then gathered themselves enough to start the video.

 

"3...2..." She made a signal to indicate that she'd pressed record.

 

The little red light turned on and they began to talk. They introduced the third challenge, this one Zayn's. Like Harry, he wanted to test Louis' skills. For this particular challenge, he wanted to see if he could put his drama major to good use.

 

"Find an audience, doesn't matter where or who, and give them a performance. Doesn't matter what it is, just try to make it last at least a couple of minutes." Zayn explained.

 

"Just have fun with it." Liam added.

 

"Congrats for getting halfway to your goal! Let's hope you'll have just as much success getting the second half." Niall piped up.

 

"For people wondering what we're talking about, there's a link to Louis' channel in the description, as well as a link to the donation site if you'd like to help out. Don't forget to share this video if you can! Every little bit matters." Liam said next.

 

"Thank you to everyone who's donated and shared these videos so far! We look forward to your next video, Lou. Like Liam said, just have fun with it. Thank you again everybody, take care and have a good one!" Harry waved at the camera and waited for the little red light to turn off. Once it did, he pulled out his phone to e-mail Louis.

 

"How's Loverboy? I'm sure his whole life's changed in the two minutes that you haven't talked." Liam teased lightly.

 

"He's doing his English Lit. homework." Harry replied absentmindedly.

 

Louise took the camera off the pedestal and handed it to Niall along with the bag containing the wires. She'd leave the pedestal for them to put away. "You'll be good to finish this up yourselves?"

 

"Yeah, thanks Lou." Zayn thanked her and she headed out, leaving them to their task.

 

Niall got up for a second to grab Harry's laptop and quickly returned to his seat, booting it up and starting on the file transfer. Liam poked their curly-haired bandmate in the ribs repeatedly, laughing as he tried to twist away without letting go of his phone. Harry pressed up against Niall, whom was on his other side, to try to get away from Liam. He finished his e-mail and put down his phone to glare at his friend.

 

"Okay, okay, I'm done. Happy?"

 

"Yes." Liam grinned innocently. Harry pouted.

 

"Jerk."

 

Niall gently shoved Harry off of himself, "Harr-eh, I'm trying to work here."

 

"It's Liam's fault."

 

"Is not."

 

"Is too."

 

Zayn leaned forward and placed a hand over both of their mouths, "Shh... Help Niall." He pulled away and they both pouted in his direction.

 

"This is your challenge, isn't it? You should be doing it." Harry pointed out smugly.

 

"You should." Niall agreed.

 

Zayn just shrugged.

 

They worked together to complete the video, or Niall edited the video while the other three watched and added unhelpful commentary, and it was soon uploaded onto Youtube. They put the links in the description box like they said they would, along with a little note from them. They checked the links first to make sure they worked, and while they were on the donation page they took a look at the current donated amount. It was passed 62 thousand pounds, which was amazing. They knew that a lot of those donations were thanks to them - the fans had gone for them, but had stayed for Louis - they weren't ignorant of the influence they had, and they were proud that they were able to do something like this.

 

This was one of the few perks of their job. Aside from singing, they were able to do good and it felt amazing. They were happy that some of their fans showed their support by donating into a charity they were happy to endorse, rather than buy some merchandise they had little control over. They wouldn't say that out loud, of course, but it was the truth.

 

"Thanks boys, again, for doing this." Harry had said the same thing more than strictly necessary over the last few weeks, and he meant it just as much each time.

 

"Yeah, yeah." Liam poked him in the side again, brushing off the comment.

 

"We're not doing you a favour, Harry. This 21 year old deserves to have a working heart." Zayn was nonchalant as he said it, but it was clear to them he meant it whole-heartedly.

 

Harry simply smiled, dimples on full display. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, taking a second to stare at his background. It was Louis holding his ' _Honk for 1D_ ' poster, making a face at the camera. Louis had sent it to him before he made the video, since he'd asked to see the poster, and he'd immediately set it as his wallpaper.

 

"It's nice to see you like this." Liam said softly.

 

"Hm?" Harry looked at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

 

"Just happy like this. It's nice." Liam shrugged sheepishly.

 

Harry's face softened as he understood, "I like it too." He admitted.

 

Zayn reached around Liam to ruffle his hair, "Don't forget we're always on your side, no matter what you want to do."

 

They stared at each other for a moment as Harry tried to understand what he meant by the comment. Liam, sitting between them, stared down at his lap, and Niall, the tension defuser, took action like he often did.

 

"Group hug!" He yelled out, pulling his bandmates into a tight hug. They all fell into it easily, the action warm and familiar.

 

They were a team, always.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hi, Ms. Tomlinson! It's Harry."

 

"Hi dear, how are you?"

 

There was some noise in the background that Harry couldn't quite distinguish.

 

"I'm good Ms. Tomlinson, how are you?" He asked politely.

 

"It's Jay, love. I'm a mother not a grandmother, and I'm doing fine, thank you. I'll get you Louis, in just a second..." Some rustling and he heard her say, "Louis, sweetie! Phone's for you!"

 

"Gimme a minute, mum!" He heard Louis shout in the distance.

 

Harry put his hand over the receiver, laughing to himself. It was always quite the rowdy household, but it seemed amplified on that particular morning for some reason or other.

 

"He's coming." She informed him, "How are your shows coming along, dear? I heard you're a singer, is that right? I couldn't imagine getting on stage in front of so many people, I have such awful stage fright, you know. Louis does the performing thing too, more acting than singing mind you, but he loves it. Obviously doesn't get that from me!"

 

"Well, he couldn't have gotten everything from you! I mean, he already has your dashing good looks."

 

She laughed loud and unbidden, "A bit of a charmer, aren't you?"

 

"Mum? You'll be late to work. I got the girls." Harry heard Louis in the background.

 

"Okay, sweetie." Her voice was distant while she spoke to her son, "Harry's on the phone for you."

 

"I know, mum. No one else would call me at arse o'clock in the morning."

 

Again he put his hand over the receiver to laugh by himself. If he hadn't had Louis' permission to call at, as he said, arse o'clock in the morning, he'd feel bad about it. As it was, they'd agreed to switch off, sometimes Louis would get the early calls, sometimes Harry, depending on time zones and whatnot. It was 5:30 p.m in Auckland, New Zealand, where they had their show the next night, and it was 6:30 a.m in Doncaster, for once an almost decent hour for both of them.

 

"Have a good show, Harry. Take care!" Jay said into the receiver.

 

"Thank you, you too."

 

There was a rustling sound when she handed the phone to Louis, "Hi, love!" He said cheerfully, and right away his voice grew distant as he spoke to someone in the background, probably still his mother, "Yeah, yeah, I got it covered. Go, or you'll be late." After a second, he returned to the phone - properly this time.

 

"Hey." He sounded a little bit breathless.

 

Harry could hear his heart in his ears, a gentle resounding, ' _hi, love!_ ' bouncing around in his head. His cheeks flushed uncomfortably warm, and he fanned himself with his hand to cool himself a little bit. It wasn't helpful, but it brought him back to himself enough to realize that Louis had spoken to him again, this time expecting a response.

 

"Hi."

 

This was really not okay.

 

Crushes were shit.

 

The stupid warm fuzzy feeling and the blushing and the stumbling and the butterflies... Awful, awful, awful. (Not really.)

 

"How's it going in the future?" Louis joked.

 

"It's fantastic. All this sunshine and blue skies... Oh, well I guess that's not really gonna make its way to England, now is it?" Harry teased back. He loved England, he did, but the weather was shit.

 

"Yeah, well England has me, so who's the real winner here, hm?"

 

This - this was nice. Bantering, playing off each other, not tripping over every second word... That was the good thing about crushes - or whatever it was that they had, there was a lot to be determined here that neither of them were brave enough to discuss - and he was okay with that. (And the butterflies weren't so bad either.)

 

"Busy morning?" He asked.

 

"Yeah. Mum's gotta get to work and I'm watching the girls. Daisy and Pheebs have a story to show their class today and Lottie has a ten minute speech about some history crap no one cares about today too, and they all want me to watch them do their speeches one last time before they head off to school, despite the fact that I've seen it a million times already and I could pretty much recite it myself without any trouble. Lottie tried to say she was too sick to go to school - she's a bit scared of being in front of people, ya know? - but it didn't work on my mum when I tried it, not for that reason of course, I usually tried to skip off on tests I didn't study for, and it never worked so of course it wasn't going to work now..."

 

Louis continued on about his morning, having to pause sometimes and get away from the phone for a couple minutes while he dealt with the girls. Soon enough they were off to school, and he picked up the phone with a huge sigh of relief.

 

"Finally! Fuck, when one of them's nervous it's like it's infectious and they all become a pack of nerves over nothing."

 

"You're a really great brother to them." Harry said sweetly, enamored with that brotherly aspect of Louis' personality.

 

"Ah, heh... Thanks." Louis cleared his throat, "You don't have a show today, right?"

 

"Right. Our next show is tomorrow."

 

A whirring as Louis turned on his obnoxious desktop computer. They remained in silence for a minute until Harry grew frustrated with it. He was in his hotel room after a long morning of soaking in the New Zealand sunshine, and he hadn't bothered to turn on the television or put his IPod in the speaker dock, so the room was far too quiet for his liking. It didn't help that Louis was being quiet - he usually was in the early morning.

 

He began to hum the first thing that came to mind, which so happened to be _Grease_. After hearing Louis sing ' _You're The One That I Want_ ', he'd rewatched the movie and now the songs were stuck in his head, especially that particular one since he'd definitely watched Louis sing it more than he'd heard the actual movie version.

 

Soon enough Louis joined in with his humming - and then they were singing, Harry taking the Sandy parts and Louis taking his beloved Danny's parts. He knew that he was probably doubling over chorus', but Louis followed him flawlessly and they sung together for a couple minutes. They did that sometimes, duetting randomly during phone calls.

 

(Zayn had caught him once, singing a song from _Mary Poppins,_ and he'd just shook his head and slowly walked out of the tour bus.)

 

After repeating the same chorus three times, Harry stopped and laughed at his fumble. Louis joined in right away. It took a moment for them to catch their breath after their little spontaneous duet. Slowly they quieted down, Harry wiping the tears from his eyes, having laughed a little too hard.

 

"Beautiful. We're definitely getting an Oscar for that one." Louis joked.

 

"It would actually be a Grammy... Oscars are for actors." Harry corrected.

 

Harry got up and fetched his laptop from his suitcase, gently setting it on the bed and laying on his stomach in front of it. He opened it and pressed the power button, keeping his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.

 

"Oh shut up, smarty-pants." He teased. Harry could hear him typing at his keyboard. Like the desktop itself, the keyboard was obnoxiously loud. Although it annoyed Louis far more than it did him.

 

He put in his password and pressed enter, watching as his wallpaper loaded up. It was him and the boys on stage at the last show of their Up All Night tour.

 

"Did you know that bungee jumping started in New Zealand?"

 

"Hm? No, I didn't know that. I always wondered though, like, how someone thought of that. 'Oh, I'm gonna jump off a bridge and hope this rubber band doesn't break!' How does that seem like a good idea?"

 

"I dunno. Have you ever thought about going bungee jumping?"

 

"I probably would. More for my pride than anything else, to be honest." Louis chuckled, "Are you gonna go jump off a bridge in New Zealand, Harold?"

 

"Ehh... I thought about it, but we're not really allowed to because of legal reasons. Can't exactly cancel a concert because... Whoops! One of the singers thought it'd be a good idea to jump off a bridge." Harry jested and they laughed.

 

"Yeah, guess you're right on that one. Maybe next time."

 

"Probably not."

 

"Are you a scaredy-cat?" Louis teased lightly.

 

"See, this is why you'd go jumping off a bridge. I, on the other hand, am not too prideful to say I'd rather not jump off a bridge. I'd rather go have a burger." Harry said childishly.

 

"But I'm not too prideful to say that I'm prideful. Does that make me not prideful? Or just self-aware?"

 

"I'd go with the second one."

 

"Pish posh."

 

"Did you just say ' _pish posh_ '? How cultured of you." He taunted. Twitter wasn't really interesting, but he took the time to answer a few tweets and send Louis a random message for the Hell of it.

 

There was a pause.

 

"Harold."

 

"Yup?"

 

"Who's ' _Larry Stylinson_ '? I've been meaning to ask. I've seen him mentioned on Twitter a bit, and in my Youtube comments."

 

Harry felt himself flush all over again. Oh, fuck. How was he going to explain this one?

 

"You've seen it on Twitter?"

 

"Yeah, I've got someone here saying that he's cute. I don't know why anyone would think I'd care to know that. I don't even know who this guy is. Is he a singer? I'm so shit at following the new artists."

 

"Um, no." Oh God, oh God... Fuck. He took his phone and changed it to the other ear, feeling his hands growing sweaty. Most people didn't care about the whole 'shipping' thing, it was almost funny really, but there were still those that were made uncomfortable by it. Especially when people were shipping real-life people. Harry didn't mind, it was mostly good fun, but he had no clue how Louis would take to it. "It's not a person."

 

"Then what is it?"

 

"Um..."

 

"Harry, I have my computer open in front of me. I could just Google him.... _it_ if I want." Louis seemed to sense his hesitance, so Harry knew he wouldn't actually do it, but it pushed him to say something anyways.

 

"It's um... You see, the fans do this thing... It's called 'shipping'?" Harry said hesitantly.

 

"... Like boats? Or FedEx?"

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his curls. He made his way to Louis' twitter mentions, easily finding the type of tweet he was talking about. The fans were so open about their shipping nowadays that even if he didn't want to explain, Louis would find out about it at some point. It felt like taking a plunge into cold, _cold_ water.

 

"No, it's something different. It's this new thing that fans do... Fans of pretty much anything, really. They take two people who've interacted in some way, or sometimes they haven't... I don't really know how it works, to be honest. So they see two people and they kind of imagine them as a couple. And they put their names together, like how they did with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, and how they became Brangelina."

 

"So they... Ship... Two people together? Like real couples or fake couples?"

 

"Like..." Fuck it was harder to explain than he though. "Actors, or characters, or singers, or pretty much anybody. And if they think they look good together, whether or not they're actually together, they get shipped. So the fans give them a name and it becomes a thing."

 

"O-kay... So who's ' _Larry Stylinson_ '?"

 

"Um..."

 

A lengthy pause. Harry wasn't sure how weird things would get if he told Louis that it was _them_. It wasn't weird with the other guys, but there wasn't actually anything there. Not that there was anything between him and Louis, but well... There could be. Maybe.

 

Ah, fuck.

 

"Oh." Louis said suddenly, "Oh. Oh..."

 

There it is.

 

"' _Larry_...' Oh. So it's... Me and..."

 

"Yup."

 

"You. Oh."

 

Another pause.

 

"I guess that explains why people are telling me about it. Sort of. It's kinda weird."

 

"Well, um, when two people interact sometimes the fans just get carried away. It doesn't really have to mean anything, obviously. But they ship me with loads of people I've never met, it's just a thing..." Harry explained awkwardly. He didn't want it to be weird. Weird was bad. And bad was really bad.

 

"I didn't mean that was weird, I meant the concept, in general." Louis also sounded a little bit awkward.

 

He didn't like where this was going. Though the fact that it wasn't the idea of the two of them that was weird was good.

 

"Yeah, it was... Weird at first. You get used to it, I mean... If it bothers you, I could..." He didn't really know _what_ he could do.

 

"No, no, it's um... It's fine. I just don't get why they think I want to know. I mean, it's nice that they think we're cute and all, but I don't see how it's... Important."

 

Harry couldn't help but laugh, "I know! I haven't figured that bit out yet. But you do get used to it. Most people aren't pushy about it, and most of them are pretty respectful. I don't recommend googling it though. It can get a bit... Adult. Not that I've looked it up! I've just... Me and the boys have googled ourselves, and yeah... I'd avoid that route. Although it's usually quite flattering." He joked, trying to clear the air.

 

"Your fans are so weird." Louis muttered.

 

Harry received the notification indicating that Louis had responded to his Tweet. He opened it up and laughed. He'd Tweeted him, ' _@Louis_Tomlinson stole the cookie from the cookie jar!_ ' and of course he'd followed right along, ' _@Harry_Styles who me?_ '. As was their way, Harry kept on with it.

 

"They're not weird," He insisted, "They're passionate."

 

Louis laughed, "Whatever you say, Harold!"

 

They continued to chat, Tweeting each other all the while. Despite that brief moment of panic where Harry had thought things were going wrong, it remained still so comfortable It scared them how easy it was for them to talk for hours and hours. Harry was busy with work, and Louis with his charity, yet they always made time for each other, because it had easily become the best part of their days.

 

Harry could hardly wipe the smile off his face and if his friends laughed at his 'glow', as they'd put it, well, he was too happy to care.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Dark screen. Click. Light. Louis appeared on screen, full-frame for once, in sinfully tight black jeans and a wonderfully clingy red t-shirt. He was standing in his bedroom, a grin on his lips.

 

"Alright! Welcome, welcome!" Louis clapped his hands together in excitement. He was clearly in a good mood. "Today I'll be taking a shot at Mr. Malik's challenge. Which in layman's terms was - perform for an audience. I may be cheating here, but I did a monologue for a class and I still remembered most of it, so I decided to go with that. And I've got the best audience in the whole wide world. Also because this is a bit rushed, I don't have a fancy costume for you, but I'm hoping my outstanding talent will make up for it."

 

He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "Aw, well. I do what I can. So! We're off. I'll see you there!"

 

Blank screen. Click. Light. Scene change. This time Louis stood in the center of a familiar hospital room. All the sheets were pulled from around the four beds, showing off their occupants. Three of them were elderly men, heart machines beeping away slowly next to their beds. The last was Stanley Lucas in the bed on the far right of the room, still thin and pale with a boyish grin on his face.

 

Suddenly, his face grew stern and his usual body language, one of openness and lightness, changed drastically to one of power and strength. He seemed grand and big, and when he opened his lips to speak, his words echoed within the four walls, loud and powerful.

 

"Be patient till the last." He began, "Romans, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge."

 

As he'd said, he'd been asked to choose a monologue to present for one of his classes. He'd gone with Brutus' monologue in Act 3 Scene 2 of the Shakespeare play, _Julius Caesar_. It was one of his favourites, after Mercutio's Queen Mab speech in _Romeo and Juliet_. When Zayn had asked him to perform one for an audience, well, it seemed best to go with something he already knew rather than try to learn something completely new.

 

He pressed on, keeping his attitude a mix of grief and dominance, gaining sympathy and loyalty from the imaginary Romans in front of him. The monologue lasted about 3 minutes, give or take depending on who and how it was presented, which was over the 2 minute minimum that Zayn had requested.

 

"With this I depart, -that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death." Louis finished the monologue, standing still for a moment before falling into a bow, signaling the end to the room. The three men clapped, and Stan and Hannah whooped in the background.

 

He'd travelled around the room a little during his speech, but for the end he'd made his way back to the center of the room, where he pulled himself up from his bow. He straightened his fringe and his shirt, both unnecessarily, and gave the camera a thumbs up.

 

"That was Brutus' monologue form _Julius Caesar_ , Act 3 Scene 2. Stan's seen that one before, haven't you, mate?" Louis asked, looking over his shoulder at his best friend.

 

He did a little fist pump and grinned, "Yup!"

 

"I'd like to thank Mr. Rowling, Mr. Young, and Mr. Patel for being a wonderful audience for me today." He indicated the room's other three residents. They waved at the camera that paned over them.

 

"Hey!" Stan interjected, exaggeratedly offended.

 

"And thank you, Stan." He added, rolling his eyes.

 

"You are very welcome." Stan leant heavily against the mattress, exhausted by that small exchange.

 

Louis pursed his lips, frustrated for his friend, but put his grin back in place to finish talking to the camera, or as he preferred to think of it - his audience.

 

"Thank you for watching! See you next time." He bowed once more for the camera.

 

Click. Blank Screen. Video end.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"Cut." Hannah said, the camera now shut off.

 

Louis straightened out of his bow, sighing to himself. It was fun, he loved performing after all, but it was still stressful. He went to each of the elderly men, thanking them personally for being his audience. Hannah returned to sit next to their friend and they waited for Louis to join them.

 

"You were great, Louis. I used to be a poet back in the day, if you can imagine, and I used to read Shakespeare like there was no tomorrow. Hm... Maybe I'll see if the Missus can find some good ol' Shakespeare. Or maybe I'll go see a play when I get outta here."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Rowling. I hope you get to see that play." Louis patted the old man's hand affectionately before making his way to his friends. He'd grown rather fond of them in the last few months, and it had been great of them to allow him to perform for them.

 

"Just as good as the first time." Stan praised as he sat down next to the bed.

 

"Glad to hear it, mate. How are you doing? You seem a bit tired." He sounded worried, but what else was new?

 

"I'm always tired." He said dryly, "So what was that for again?" The change of topic was far from smooth, but Louis would go with it.

 

"Just another class thing."

 

"You're almost done right? This semester?"

 

"Yup. December 13th is my last exam."

 

"And, uh, what day are we today? Being in here makes it a bit hard to follow the date, ya know..." His tone was self-deprecating and weary.

 

"I get it, mate. It's November 10th. Sunday. Just over a month and I'll be done this semester, and you'll be getting your surgery. And I'll be 22."

 

"'Cause I'm feelin' 22..." Hannah sang softly and Louis gave her a look.

 

"Don't. Just. Don't. I have four sisters. Trust me, I've heard it plenty."

 

She laughed, and Stan joined her, not quite as loudly. "Okay, okay." She said, "I'll stop."

 

"So how've you been? What have you guys been up to? Other than school and Shakespeare, I mean." Stan asked, his voice weak but his tone animated. "Come on now, give me the dirt."

 

Louis just shrugged, "I dunno, man. Life's not that interesting."

 

"Louis has a beau." Hannah piped up, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

 

"I do not!" He denied vehemently.

 

"Oh, does he now? How come I haven't heard about this before?"

 

"Because he's not my beau. I don't even know him." He persisted, glaring at his friend.

 

"Tell me you haven't started internet dating."

 

"Oh my God, _no_."

 

"He wasn't looking for someone, they just happened to bump into each online and now it's love." She kept on stubbornly, ignoring Louis' _look_.

 

"Is he cute?" Stan was asking the important questions.

 

"He is so cute." Louis admitted, clearly enamoured.

 

"He has dimples." Hannah added.

 

"He has dimples." Louis echoed, a silly little grin already on his lips at the mere mention of Harry and his stupid dimples.

 

"Mhm." Stan and Hannah shared a look.

 

"But it doesn't matter. We're not dating. I just think he's extremely attractive, that's all. No matter what Hannah says. Not dating, not in love, and not a chance." He said firmly.

 

"What do you mean, 'not a chance'?"

 

"Louis thinks the guy's too good for him." Hannah explained, and Stan nodded along, pretending to understand.

 

"It's not that, I just... We've never met and he's got his own thing going on, and no matter what Hannah says, we're not together and he doesn't feel that way for me. Not that it matters since I don't have feelings for him. Hannah's just another shipper." He covered his face with one hand, embarrassed with himself, "God, I can't believe I said that out loud."

 

"Shipper?" She frowned, "What does that mean?"

 

Louis shook his head, "Don't. It's... Weird." He sighed and stood up, running his hand through his hair in exasperation, "Look, I'm gonna go get some water. You guys find something else to talk about other than my non-existent love life. Alright?"

 

"Alrighty, Mr. Crabby-Pants." She joked, but agreed to drop the subject.

 

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy talking about Harry, because he could go on about him for much longer than necessary, but her insistence that there was something there when there wasn't... Was too much. Too much for his head, too much for his heart. It genuinely _hurt_ that he'd never get to hug him, or kiss him, but that was life and he'd get over it.

 

If only she weren't so goddamned persistent.

 

**OoOoO**

 

That night he laid his head in his mother's lap, his heart yearning and his eyes burning. She carded her fingers through his hair soothingly, staying quiet. She was his mother after all, and knew what he needed even better than he did most times. She let him soak up her warmth and she gave him time to think on whatever was troubling him.

 

His eyes stayed fixed on the television, not registering at all what was playing on it, and he hadn't even realized that his mother had lowered the volume to as low as she could make it. At least she had something to do while he sorted his problems. Even his sisters, usually loud and incessant, seemed to be giving him a break.

 

He must look really pathetic, if that was the case.

 

This wasn't like him, to be so absurdly head over heels for someone. He hated it, and he loved it, and it hurt.

 

If only his mother could make it go away, for just one minute, so he could _breathe_.

 

It wasn't like he couldn't get a date, he wasn't desperate, but it was Harry and that made all the difference.

 

Fuck. He was just so angry with himself.

 

Jay hummed softly, and he tried desperately to focus on that sound, but all it did was remind him of Harry and how they sang together, and the lullaby Harry had sung to him once over the phone, and those fucking curls and his silly bambi-like expression... It was too much. Too big, too overwhelming.

 

He wanted some sleep.

 

 

He wanted to kiss those pouty lips. Make them red and shiny, make him blush and stutter like he did sometimes. Make him as breathless as Louis felt whenever he thought of dimples and awful jokes.

 

He groaned and rolled onto his back to look his mom in the eyes, and she continued to stroke his hair, "Mom." He whined, pouting.

 

"What is it, sweetheart?" She asked gently.

 

"I'm 21. Not 16. I'm not supposed to be so _confused_ over a boy!" He complained, heaving a heavy sigh.

 

"I'm afraid it's not the age that matters. It's the boy." She kept her voice low, trying to calm him before his confusion turned to anger, well-deserved or not.

 

"Boys are stupid."

 

"Mm..." She hummed in agreement.

 

He sighed again, more resigned than frustrated this time, and closed his eyes. "Can we get some ice cream?" He asked meekly, exhausted from thinking.

 

"Sure, baby."

 

He was called a mama's boy more times than he could count, but Hannah pushed, Stan prodded, and his sisters were loud, and although he loved the lot of them, sometimes all he needed was his mother's quiet understanding.

 

Maybe he was still confused, but at least he was a little calmer...

 

And he got ice cream. Fuck yeah.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"You were so great Lou!" Harry gushed.

 

"Thanks, love, I'm glad you liked it." Louis cleared his throat, blushing bright red. "How're your shows coming along?"

 

"They're great! Australia's been really awesome and the weather is fantastic. You know, I've seriously considered moving here, but I think I'd miss London too much."

 

"I'm sure London would miss you too." Louis quipped, earning a laugh.

 

"Pfft! London only wants me for my arse!" Louis laughed, silently agreeing. He did have a rather cute little bum, after all. "Hey, is it weird that I got you a souvenir in Sydney?"

 

"Hm." Louis pushed his school books off his bed, knowing he wouldn't be getting any more work done, and stretched out on his bed, cozying into his covers, "Depends what it is, I suppose. Although I'm not one to ever say no to a gift."

 

"Good. That's good to hear."

 

"So, what is it?" Louis asked excitedly. He loved giving gifts, but he was also quite the fan of receiving trinkets.

 

"Wouldn't really be a surprise if I told you, now would it?"

 

"You never said it was a surprise! You can't say it's a surprise after you tell me. That's just mean!" Louis forced his hand out of his hair where he'd been subconsciously messing with his fringe. It wasn't like he was flirting.

 

Or like Harry could see him.

 

"Alright, alright. The last thing I want is for you to think I'm mean! I have a reputation to uphold, after all. It's not anything fancy, but you know... You said you love tea - like a proper brit - so I, uh, got you a mug. It's not much, but it has your name on it, with the right spelling... And it's sparkly! Not that I think you like - well, who doesn't like sparkles? I mean, I do, and I'm not everybody obviously, so I guess, um, I don't know. I guess I just thought-"

 

"That sounds lovely, Harry. It's very sweet of you, and when I get it I'll use it every day." Louis considered letting him ramble (ever so slowly), but decided to put him out of his misery. Poor boy sounded a few seconds away from falling into a panic attack.

 

"Oh. Good. I'm glad."

 

"When are you going to be done in Australia? Almost seems like you've been there forever!" It'd been a little more than five weeks, and it was almost December now. There was only about a month until the surgery and his birthday, and they had amassed over 90 thousand pounds. The world seemed at times like it was spinning too fast and he didn't know where to set his focus. At the moment, all he allowed himself to think about was sparkly mugs and dimples.

 

Despite often being the cause of some of his stress, Harry was also his greatest de-stresser lately, however that worked.

 

"Done in a little bit over a week! Then we have some stuff to do in L.A, and then it's time for Japan."

 

"Fuck, how do you get any sleep with all that travelling?"

 

"I don't, that's how." Harry chuckled, 'But it's worth it, I swear."

 

"It better be. Have you been to Japan before?"

 

"Yeah, once last year. It was amazing. Everyone is so respectful, and the audience is so attentive. They just listen to the music. I've gotten used to the screaming, but it's... different when everyone's quiet."

 

"I can imagine. I've been to a couple concerts and I get that people are excited and all, but you hardly even hear the performance through all the screaming."

 

"What concerts have you gone to?" Harry asked. Louis looked over to his pin board on the wall, four ticket stubs pinned to it.

 

"I've gone to Leeds the last three years, and I saw The Script in Manchester over four years ago."

 

"Really? I went to see them too! Also in Manchester, funny enough."

 

"Oh yeah? I got the tickets as a birthday gift, so the concert must have been in January, or February... Of 2009 I think." Louis squinted in the direction of his concert stubs, he didn't have his contacts in, and his glasses were too far to grab, so it wasn't really useful.

 

"You know what, I think that might have been when I went too. I also got the tickets as a birthday gift, and I'm pretty sure it was right after so... Early February sometime. Hey, do you think maybe we were at the same concert? How funny would that be?"

 

"That'd be... Funny, yeah."

 

Imagine that. They may have been mere feet away from each other. Was that irony? It felt like it. Cruel, crushing irony. He wonders if they'd met that time, almost five years ago, if there may have been... Something. Maybe they wouldn't have hit it off like they did when they started chatting over seven weeks ago.

 

Although he doubted there was ever a time in his life he wouldn't have been ready to meet Harry.

 

"Louis!" He'd recognize that voice anywhere.

 

"What is it, Kiddo?" He asked the eldest of his younger sisters once she opened his bedroom door and peered around it.

 

"I want the phone." She said with a pout.

 

"What's the magic word?"

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but did as she was asked, "Please?"

 

"Alright, alright. Just a sec. I'll bring it to you." He shooed her out, and she beamed at her easy success. Normally, he'd have argued with her over the matter, but he could admit he was the one who'd been spending the most time on the phone in their household in the last couple of months. If anything, he was surprised they hadn't done this to him yet.

 

"Gotta go?" Harry asked, sounding disappointed. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

 

"Yeah, Lottie wants the phone. We'll talk soon. Send me some more cat pictures to entertain me, okay?"

 

"Will do! It'll be a cuteness overload."

 

"I'm sure. Okay, I gotta go. Talk soon."

 

"Okay, bye bye!"

 

"Bye, Love."

 

**OoOoO**

"It's fucking December first and Liam Goddamn Payne has asked me to befriend a hobo. Not what I had planned for my day." Louis said, adjusting the umbrella he was trying to use to keep the rain off of both Hannah and himself. It wasn't easy.

 

"Let's get this done, okay? And don't go making a new best friend. I want to get home today."

 

"Mhm."

 

That was in fact Liam Payne's challenge, the fourth and final from the One Direction boys. Louis tried his best to focus on finding a stranger (as the challenge had been find a 'stranger' and not a 'hobo') instead of on the idea that once this final challenge was over, there wasn't really a reason for Harry to continue speaking to him. He definitely felt like their friendship was something special, but he wasn't sure if Harry felt the same, or if the past couple months had simply been kindness.

 

He was hoping the former, but...

 

He had a hobo to find and feed.

 

_"Find a stranger and buy them a meal. Talk to them. After, share their story with us."_

 

That was pretty much all Liam had given him to go on, and that's how he found himself on the rainy streets of Doncaster trying to find himself someone homeless. Hey, if he was going to buy someone a meal, it would be someone who needed it.

 

It made for a thrilling afternoon.

 

In the end, he found a lovely young woman, 26 years old, with two children off to foster homes. He hadn't purposely sought someone with a sad backstory, but he had this talent for attracting drama. Her name was Laura Goldburg and she'd gone to school in sociology and law, but she had to drop out when she found out she was pregnant with her first child at 20 years old. Her boyfriend had stuck around long enough to knock her up a second time, then he pissed off, not to be heard from again.

 

She took care of her boys, she said, but in the end the money was low, and the food was lower. She had no choice but to give them up, even though it broke her heart. She knew they were happy, and that made it worth it. She'd ended up on the streets shortly after giving up her boys, when she was 25 years old. She'd worked long hours as a waitress to make ends meet, but the restaurant went under and so did she.

 

She'd been on the streets for over a year and the only thing she wanted in terms of food was a burger that Louis was more than happy to buy for her.

 

"Thank you so much, Laura, for sharing all this with us." Louis shook her hand.

 

"Thanks for the meal, hon. Be good."

 

"Will do." He promised, waving goodbye as she walked off.

 

He rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't meant to cry, but she'd started crying when she was talking about her sons and he's not good around people who are crying... He turned to Hannah and the camera, giving it a thumbs up.

 

"So that went well! It's dark and it's late, so we'll finish this up at home."

 

She clicked off the camera and gave him a look, "I _told_ you not to go making a new best friend. It's super late now! My arse hurts from sitting on that fucking stool for five hours."

 

Louis smiled innocently, "What? I was just being a decent person."

 

She rolled her eyes, but didn't press on the matter. "Okay, so we'll share a cab I guess? I'll leave the camera with you and you can finish off the video at home. I'll go home first, since it's closer, and then you can take it home. Sound good?"

 

"Sounds good." He agreed, taking the camera from her.

 

"It's sad, you know." She hailed a cab and they climbed into it. She gave the driver her address.

 

"What is?" He asked, settling into the seat. She'd been right about the stools being a pain in the ass. Burger joints were definitely not made to loiter in for several hours.

 

"How life... Sucks, sometimes."

 

"Yeah." He toyed with the camera between his hands, taking a second to put on his seatbelt before the cab took off to her flat.

 

"You alright?" She asked after a minute of silence.

 

"Hm?" He looked up at her, and saw her looking at him with concern. He placed the camera down in his lap, forcing himself to stop fidgeting. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? We've almost got all the money we need. This last ten grand is going to put us near 100 thousand pounds. And there's hardly four weeks until the surgery."

 

"He's not going to stop talking to you because this is over, Louis." He'd mentioned being worried about that earlier that day, and he didn't think she'd still remember. She was his best friend for a reason, he figured.

 

"I just... I feel stupid, you know? My friend is going into surgery in less than four weeks, there's this wonderful woman living on the streets, and all I can think about is some _boy_ I've never met."

 

"You know, I'm sure he thinks about you a whole lot too."

 

He scoffed, "Yeah, right. I need to set my priorities straight, that's all. I need to focus. Focus, fuck." He ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily. "I'm screwed."

 

"Everyone thinks differently about things. Just because you're in love with someone, doesn't mean that you aren't focused on the other parts of your life. Your videos have been steady, and good too. We're raising the money and you've still been helping out your mum with the girls. You're doing fine, Louis. Don't be so hard on yourself."

 

"M'not in love." He muttered sourly, looking out of the window.

 

She reached across the cab seat and patted his hand gently.

 

"I'm fucked."

 

"Yup."

 

**OoOoO**

 

Louis wasn't the only one wondering what would happen between the two boys now. Harry was having similar thoughts. They had begun speaking because of these videos, because of Louis' charity, and now that it was drawing to a close... Was that it?

 

He spent a week and a half in L.A, going from one interview to another for various things, trying to answer questions to the best of his abilities about things he couldn't give a shit about.

 

No, he wasn't dating anyone, thank you very much. And no, he wasn't sleeping with four hundred girls a year. (Okay, they didn't ask about that, but it was certainly implied.)

 

With the charity drawing to a close, would Louis still want them to talk to each other? As frequently as they do presently?

 

Yes, their new album was going to be great. It'll be far more mature than their previous ones, he told the interviewers. They did more writing on it and had more say in the sound. They were very proud of it.

 

But then again, Harry wondered whether he should retreat now before he walked himself right into misery. He wanted so desperately to meet Louis, to give him the damn sparkly mug, and maybe kiss him a little bit. But realistically speaking, what were the chances of that working out for him? Louis was a little flamboyant, but he wasn't the type to judge on that... For all he knew Louis was perfectly straight and completely _not_ into him.

 

No, he's not with Taylor Swift anymore. (Not that he ever was.) Or Cara... What's-her-name. Or any of the other girls they brought up. Yes, they're all perfectly lovely, but he just isn't interested.

 

Even if Louis was interested, Harry wasn't up for making anybody his dirty little secret. That would mean coming out to the fans - to the whole world, basically.

 

Yes, their friendship is completely genuine. Everyone seems to have a hard time believing that. They're great friends, and they miss each other when they're all apart.

 

He genuinely really cares for Louis, and he feels like there's such great potential... And maybe coming out... Maybe it'd be a risk he'd be up for taking. And he knows his friends would support him, which is already a weight off his shoulders...

 

No, it's not getting old. No, they aren't breaking up any time soon. If he gets a say in it, their band is sticking together for a very long time.

 

There's so much risk... But _Louis_.

 

Thank you for having us. It's a pleasure. We love L.A, and we'll be back soon!

 

In the end, it didn't seem like a hard choice at all.

 

**OoOoO**

 

"We made it! God fucking damnit we did it."

 

The world finally seemed to slow down after weeks of heavy turbulence and now he could finally _breathe_.

 

Louis pushed the laptop aside and spread himself out on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. He could hear his family downstairs, the household in a Christmas frenzy with the holiday only five days away, but their voices were a blur to him. It was four days until Stan's surgery and they had made it.

 

122,376.58 pounds.

 

Stan was getting that surgery.

 

"Oh my God." He breathed out. It almost felt like a dream. A part of him wanted to call Harry to revel in the good news, but first he had to call Stan's parents. They'd been working as hard as they could over the past three and a half months to make as much money as possible, and they'd be ecstatic to hear the good news.

 

December 20th and they'd raised 122 thousand pounds. He wasn't even sure how it happened, how they were able to manage it. He knew a bit part of it was thanks to Harry, thanks to the One Direction boys really, and he could never repay them for what they'd done. Them and their fans, of course. There was no doubt that at least half the money came from One Direction fans.

 

He picked up the phone and dialed the Lucas household to share the news. After lots and lots of tears and joy, Louis set the phone aside and prepared the camera.

 

He had to thank those who'd done this for Stan. Then he would head downstairs to hug his family tightly, tell them he loved them, and share this with them.

 

It didn't seem real.

 

All of a sudden everything came together and his head was finally clear. Cleared up of cloudy thoughts and worry and frustration. It was clear for once that everything was going to work out just fine.

 

Now all that was left was for Stan to go through the four-hour surgery, then their plans for _After Christmas_ could come to fruition.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Hospitals always had that awful smell of disinfectant and antiseptics that never went away and which was almost nauseating. Yet it had become familiar over the past three and a half months of visiting the hospital every few days for long stretches of time. The white walls, friendly nurses, and the sound of beds being wheeled down the halls was almost homely.

 

At exactly 9 a.m the donation page was closed and the money was sent to the hospital, the extra couple grand going to Stan's parents. They'd use the money for everything they would need after the surgery, such as the medication, as well as to support themselves for when they would bring their son home and one of them would have to take off work for a couple weeks to look after him. Stan would be staying at the hospital for a few days after the surgery, then he'd be sent home to rest for another few weeks.

 

At 9:30 they were wheeling Stan off to surgery.

 

Louis sat with Stan's parents in the waiting room while the hours ticked by. Hannah joined them at noon after she'd sent out her final assessment to her teacher.

 

At 1 o'clock he called his mom to talk. Jay had said she and the girls would stop by to see Stan the next day in the early afternoon, before their Christmas dinner. They agreed it would be best not to overwhelm Stan with too many people right after his surgery.

 

They knew the survival rate was high and the complication risk low, that there really wasn't anything to worry about, but it was still nail-bitingly nerve-wracking waiting so long. (Although for a heart surgery it wasn't that long). Louis was pretty sure he went through at least six cups of tea in the seemingly forever-long four hours, and he'd gone to the bathroom at least twice that amount.

 

He was shit at sitting in place for long periods of time, choosing instead to wander the hospital and visit those he'd gotten to know. Plus, Stan's parents were even more nervous than he was and his agitation wouldn't help.

 

Slowly, somehow, it turned 2 p.m and Stan was being brought back to his bed.

 

He was heavily drugged, stitched up, and barely conscious, but he was fine. The doctor told them that the surgery had gone smoothly and to give it about five days and then they could take Stan home. His mother cried and held her son close, too overjoyed to speak, and his father was teary-eyed and speechless, keeping close to his wife and child. Louis sat on the hard chair near the bed, relaxing into it.

 

It was done. After so long, it was over and Stan was fine. Perfectly okay.

 

Grinning around like a fool, Stan was clearly in some euphoric state caused by the drugs in his system, and his eyes were a bit droopy from exhaustion and leftover anaesthesia, but he was alright. Better than alright, even. The doctor fixed his heart, and although he'd have to watch after himself from now on, he was going to be able to go back to society and get out of the hospital.

 

The four of them hung around the room, just reveling in each other's happiness. The anaesthesia eventually started to wear off, but they kept Stan on a heavy dose of painkillers while his chest started to heal. The major pain would wear off soon, but there'd be an ache there for quite some time and he'd have to stay on painkillers for several weeks while he healed completely.

 

When it hit 5 o'clock, Stan's parents headed off. They would be picking up a couple relatives that had flown over from Sweden, and they would return after dropping them off at their house. Louis and Hannah stayed, having no other obligations that day.

 

It may be his 22nd birthday, but he'd rather be at the hospital with his best friend. Besides, he normally celebrated his birthday on New Year's Eve, when it was less hectic. It wasn't convenient to try to do anything celebratory on Christmas Eve when his family needed the time to prepare for the coming day. It was easier to wait until after the holiday, and then he could properly celebrate with family and friends.

 

Although, he didn't really have anything planned that year, what with everything going on he hadn't even thought about it. It didn't matter, he figured, he was past the age where it made a difference. Twenty-two wasn't a special age, all it had was a song he couldn't stand.

 

He'd make up for it next year, he told himself. This year he was needed elsewhere.

 

"Just take a tiny peek, Hannah. It's so gross." Louis stared at the stitches in fascination and disgust. They were cool, but also not that nice on the eyes.

 

"No! Like you said, it's gross. Leave the boy alone, Louis, he's gone through enough."

 

"Oh, I'm not hurting him." He had gently moved aside Stan's hospital gown enough to see the stitches on his chest, and Stan had only just noticed that he was doing so. Stan went to swat at him, but missed (terribly). Louis laughed, but fixed the gown and pulled back, "Alright, alright. I'm done. The doctor did a good job on those."

 

Stan started making spit bubbles with his mouth.

 

"You're both gross." Hannah stated, looking unimpressed at both of them.

 

"We're classy as fuck." Louis defended playfully.

 

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile, "The classiest motherfuckers in town." She agreed.

 

"Yup." Stan said, stopping the spit bubbles, but now playing with his own fingers as if they were brand new.

 

Louis winked at her, "You betcha!" He stepped away from the bed, "I'm gonna go get some tea. Want something?"

 

"No, thanks." She said, "Does he still have some water?" She pointed to the cup on the table next to the bed.

 

"Still almost full." Louis answered, peering into the cup.

 

"Alright, be good." She said reflexively.

 

"Make sure he doesn't hurt himself." Stan was tugging on his fingers.

 

"Will do."

 

"Be right back."

 

He made his way out of the hospital room and down the hall towards the cafeteria. He could really go for a nice hot cup of tea. Steaming and warm and sweet, he needed it so bad. It wouldn't be as good as the tea he makes at home, but it would do for now. It was only 5:30, but he was exhausted. It'd been a long day.

 

It was probably his fault, but he turned the hallway corner a little too sharply and found himself bumping into something oddly furry and solid.

 

"Oops."

 

He'd recognize that low voice from his fucking coffin. What the fuck was it doing in Doncaster? Or was he that desperate that he was imagining things?

 

He took a step back, and _oh -_ the furry thing was a teddy bear. He looked up, and _oh_ \- the solid thing was Harry Styles himself.

 

 

"Hi." He breathed out.

 

Well this was certainly overwhelming and not how he pictured his day going. Why was Harry, in all his hipster-hat-skinny-jeans-wearing glory, in Doncaster? Although the 'why?' question only flew through his mind once, and now it was mostly filled with dimples (cuter in real life) and curly hair and green eyes. How was he even more handsome in person? He didn't think that was possible.

 

And why was he holding a teddy bear?

 

They stared at each for probably longer than was comfortable for most people, and Louis thought they probably looked like freaks to anyone passing by, but he couldn't think of a thing to say. Louis Tomlinson was speechless, and wow that didn't happen a lot.

 

Harry blinked slowly, grinning cautiously and warily. He reached up and fixed his wide-brimmed hat nervously, his other hand gripped the teddy bear tightly.

 

One of them had to say something before it got really weird.

 

"Why do birds fly south for the winter?"

 

Somehow, that was all it took for the tension to crack and yield.

 

Louis rolled his eyes playfully and placed his hand on his hips, "Why's that?"

 

"Because it's too far to walk!" Harry grinned brightly.

 

Louis laughed, not at the joke (it was awful as always), but at their situation. This was how their first phone call had gone too, he remembered. A corny joke and suddenly everything was just fine.

 

Harry took a step forward, closing what little space they had between them, and wrapped his arms around Louis' neck, bringing him in for a tight hug. Louis fell into it easily, his hands grasping onto the back of Harry's shirt. He could feel the teddy bear's fur on the back of his neck, and he could also feel how Harry had buried his face right into the crook of his neck. They held onto each other tightly, relishing the shared heat and warmth between them.

 

It was comfy and homely and he didn't want to pull away. He smelt good, he noticed, he had a nice cologne, and he was taller than him. Figures. It was only a couple inches, but it made it so his cheek was pressing against the front of Harry's shoulder instead of over it like he would if he had those two inches.

 

They were flush against each other, breathing in each other and taking the moment for what is was.

 

Louis couldn't say for sure how long they stood there, clinging to each other, but it was probably too long for 'just friends'.

 

He stepped back, bringing his arms to his sides. Harry, on the other hand, kept a gentle grip on his shoulders, keeping them no further than arms length apart.

 

"How are you doing, Lou?" His smile was blindingly bright and cheerful, his eyes no longer etched with worry.

 

"I'm alright. What on earth are you doing here?" Louis asked, getting straight to the point.

 

Harry looked at his feet, letting go of Louis and clutching the teddy bear to his chest. After a moment, he looked up, grinning sheepishly, "I figured, you know, that I'd come by to see you... And Stan. See how the surgery went. Um, I thought... Is this weird? I can go, I mean, if that's... I got him this, also. I didn't want to come empty-handed, and I know he's a grown man and all, and teddy bears aren't really... I should, um..."

 

Louis watched him fumble around calmly, waiting for him to stop and take a breather.

 

"He's a bit high right now, but when he sobers up he'll pretend to hate it, but he'll secretly love it." Louis said, taking the teddy bear from Harry's hands and looking it over. It was a small brown bear with the words 'Get Well' stitched into its stomach. It was cute, and Stan would definitely think so too (even though he won't admit it).

 

"It's... Very sweet of you to come all this way, Harry. I know it's a detour, but I... I really appreciate it. I wanted to thank you in person for what you've done for me... For Stan. Maybe it doesn't seem like a lot to you, but it means a lot to me... And to Stan's family. I'm really glad you're here. And if there was ever anything I could do to repay you, I-"

 

"Don't be stupid." Harry cut him off, taking back the teddy bear just to gently boop Louis' nose with it.

 

Louis wrinkled his nose and swatted at Harry's hand, earning a laugh, "How did you know what hospital we were at, anyways?" He asked, and Harry smiled guiltily.

 

"I may have asked your mum? I called earlier today and she told me you were already here so..." He shrugged.

 

"Tsk tsk! For all she knew you could have been some creepy stalker, how irresponsible!" He said, exaggerating enormously just to make Harry laugh again.

 

"Well, lucky for you I'm not."

 

"Hm. I haven't crossed it out as an option yet."

 

"Hey..." Harry whined, mock offended.

 

"Oh! By the way," He remembered something he'd wanted to tell Harry, "Thanks for the, um, flowers..."

 

Out loud it sounded far more like some sort of romantic sentiment rather than the simple birthday gift it was. Louis blushed at the memory.

 

That morning, before he'd made his way to the hospital, there was a knock at the door and there was some sort of flower delivery service guy with a bouquet in hand. He gave it to Louis who brought it inside and quickly placed it in a vase to keep. The note was a simple, ' _Happy birthday, Lou! Love - Harry x._ '. It was a nice arrangement of red tulips, bright yellow sunflowers, and white orchids, and it was absolutely beautiful. Harry had somehow remembered how much he loved flowers, it seemed.

 

"You got them? I was sure they'd miss you. I told them to go early since I knew you were coming here early, but I wasn't sure they would make it. I'm glad you got them!"

 

"Yeah, I was actually about to head out in like five minutes when they showed up."

 

"Did you, um... Did you like them? I wasn't sure what kind you liked, so I figured I'd just wing it and see..."

 

"They were gorgeous, Harry. I loved it."

 

Harry beamed, "Good! I'm glad. Happy birthday, by the way."

 

"Thanks. I did wonder though... How'd you get my address? Since you insist you aren't a creepy stalker." Louis teased gently. He knew Harry had meant it in the kindest of ways, but it was fun to tease.

 

"That would be your sister. Charlotte. I told her I wanted to send you a gift and she gave me your address... I made sure she had your mum's permission first though! I didn't want it to seem like, well... Some sort of creepy stalker thing."

 

No wonder she'd looked like the cat that'd caught the mouse when he'd received the flowers that morning.

 

"You're a whole other level of bleeding heart, Harold." Louis mocked, but did calm down to say sincerely, "I really loved the flowers though. They were really beautiful."

 

"Good." Harry said softly, and they stood in silence for several seconds, just staring at each other again, somehow saying more in those seconds than they had in the past several minutes.

 

"Were you going somewhere?" Harry asked, pointing in the general direction that Louis had, in fact, been going in.

 

"Nowhere important. Come, I'll introduce you to Stan and Hannah. His parents are picking up some relatives at the airport so they won't be back until later. And make sure not to mention the charity to Stan. We'll tell him about all of that when he gets better, for now it's best to just keep quiet about it."

 

"Alright."

 

The pair slowly made their way to the hospital room Stan was occupying, stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't looking.

 

The whole thing seemed surreal, as if pinching himself would wake him in his own bed back at home with his sisters pestering him up to wish him happy birthday. Yet he'd hugged him and felt him and it was very, very real, and it was beyond flattering that Harry had gone through the trouble of coming to Doncaster to visit him. Them.

 

Knowing that Harry was willing to do all that was enough to rekindle his hope in their friendship. He'd had a long day, and for once this boy hadn't been in his head every possible second, but here he was, all dashing smiles and bright eyes and stupid jokes. Louis felt like he was on fire.

 

"This is the room." Louis said, stepping inside with Harry following close behind.

 

Hannah spotted them immediately, her eyes looking from one boy to the other, at first surprised than simply curious.

 

Louis introduced Harry to Hannah and Stan (a bit less high and a bit more tired), doing his best not to meet her gaze. He could feel her vibes of ' _???_ ' and ' _!!!_ ' and he was so not in the mood right now. Harry was here, kind and bright and lovely as he'd expected, and that was all he wanted to think about for now.

 

They all took a seat around Stan's bed, thankfully the boy was too exhausted to register what was happening, because Louis didn't think he could handle both of them at the same time. Stan took in the name, and he seemed to recognize it slightly, but it obviously didn't click. He thanked Harry for the teddy bear, placing it gently on the nightstand next to a card he'd gotten from some of his other friends.

 

It wasn't so much awkward as it was... Strange.

 

They talked a little bit, keeping a conversation going enough to keep it from getting awkward. They got along, was the thing. Everything they had over the phone transcended to their new real life friendship easily, they bantered and joked and teased and played off each other as they've always done.

 

It was like they'd known each other forever.

 

Hannah put in her two cents here and there, not feeling left out per say, but more like she was interrupting something.

 

"Is there a cafeteria here? I'm a bit hungry." Harry asked sometime later.

 

"Yeah, come, I'll show you where it is." Louis got up and stretched, "Coming, Hannah?"

 

"Nah, I'm good. I'll watch Bubbles over here." She indicated towards Stan. He'd fallen asleep at some point, after making more spit bubbles (Louis assumed to annoy Hannah rather than because he was still high).

 

"Okay, see ya." He and Harry exited the hospital room quietly, trying not to disturb the other patients whom had also fallen asleep. It wasn't much later than six o'clock, but it was Christmas Eve and there'd been a lot of festivities that day. For sick people, it was tiring.

 

As they made their way to the cafeteria, they continued doing what they'd been doing since they'd bumped into each other - stealing glances whenever they could.

 

Louis wondered how long it would take until this all stopped feeling so... Normal. Comfortable and familiar and homely. It would eventually start to get awkward, wouldn't it? There was no way it could stay like that forever, it simply didn't seem likely.

 

The cafeteria was more or less the same as the rest of the hospital. Spotless with the clean smell mixed in with the scent of food, chatter going on all around them. It wasn't necessarily nice, but it was better than the blandness and sickly feeling of the rest of the hospital.

 

Harry got himself a sandwich and a drink, ordering a tea for Louis as well, somehow getting the sugar and milk right the first time. He remembered how he liked his tea, and Louis was sure he'd only told him once. He could swoon. (Not really, but it was sweet. Now, those flowers on the other hand...)

 

They found themselves a quiet seat in the back corner away from the crowd. It was busier than usual in the hospital, with more visitors and more patients going in and out due to the holiday season. Louis held his plastic cup between his hands, using it to ground himself. Harry launched right into his sandwich, clearly hungrier than he'd let on.

 

"Thanks for coming... Again. I know I've said it already, but..."

 

"Don't worry about it, Lou. I'm really glad I came." It was said around a mouthful of sandwich, but Louis knew it was heartfelt.

 

"So you're officially done your tour, huh?" Louis asked.

 

"Yeah, the ' _Take Me Home_ ' tour is officially over."

 

"Thought you'd be sadder about it."

 

"It's nice to get some time at home too, you know? We don't go back on tour until April, and I mean... I love it and all, but we don't relax much. It'll be nice to have a few months to do nothing."

 

"Sounds exciting."

 

"Mmm. You're going back to school soon, right?"

 

"Yeah. A couple weeks and then I have my full schedule again. I'll be staying in a bachelor closer to school until I graduate next summer."

 

"You excited to graduate?"

 

"Fuck yeah. It's like, I'm so done with school, but I'm about to become a teacher. It's strange how things work."

 

"But you'll be around little kids instead of adults."

 

"Home sweet home."

 

Harry laughed loudly, as he always did when he found something (almost everything) Louis said funny. He pushed aside the empty wrapper for his sandwich and took a swig from his juice. It was now or never, he thought.

 

"I was wondering... Do you have a passport?"

 

Louis frowned, "Um... Yeah? Why?"

 

Harry reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a couple wrinkled slips of paper. He unfolded them and slipped them across the table towards Louis who took them in hand and looked them over curiously.

 

"What's this?" He asked before bothering to register what the papers said.

 

"Two plane tickets. For me... And you. If you wanted to, um..."

 

"These are for New York. Like New York City? In America?" Louis wasn't sure if he was understanding what Harry was trying to say, but he didn't want to leap to any conclusions either.

 

"Yeah. I thought you might like to join me on New Year's Eve to watch the ball drop. It's at Times Square... In New York City." He said slowly, warily.

 

Louis looked up at him, speechless. How did this silly boy keep making him speechless?

 

"I thought you could maybe use a break... After everything. And I know you haven't made plans for your birthday this year... So I thought it could be fun... There's also, um, a return flight on the first... Since I know you wouldn't want to be gone from home for too long. Again with everything going on... If that's something you might want to do."

 

"You... You want to take me to New York."

 

Harry nodded, keeping his gaze steady. Louis watched him intently, waiting for _something_ to show on his face, but all that was there was a gentle honesty.

 

"...Why?"

 

There was no answer. Maybe it was obvious.

 

Louis pointed to the plane tickets, "How much was this?"

 

"Don't." Harry said softly.

 

He did as Harry asked, stopping that train of thought. It wasn't worth it to protest. Harry meant well, he meant it whole-heartedly as he so often did, and that was enough to just accept the gift without another word on the matter.

 

"So we would leave at noon on the 31st, and take a plane back on the first at 1 p.m?"

 

"Yeah. It'll be a bit tiring, but I thought you'd be up for it... Is that okay?"

 

Louis leaned back in his seat, and ran a hand through his hair in resignation, "Alright. That sounds... Really fun, actually."

 

"Yeah?" Harry asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

 

"Yeah." Louis agreed, grinning brightly.

 

"Really?"

 

Louis laughed, "Yes, really, really."

 

They exchanged shy smiles. He didn't know what it meant for him - for them. Was it a friendly gesture or was it more? Well, he didn't stress himself too much on it. He knew it was going to be fun, and that's what counted at the end of the day, right?

 

**OoOoO**

 

Harry couldn't say for sure how long they sat there, talking and joking and figuring out their plans, but it was dark out when he bothered to pull out his phone to check the time. When he saw it was past 9 o'clock and that he'd missed several calls and texts from his mother, he made a hasty exit despite wishing he could stay for a little while longer.

 

After saying goodbye to Hannah, Stan, and meeting Mr. and Mrs. Lucas, he gave Louis a (long) hug goodbye and started on the two hour drive home full of restless energy. The radio was on full blast and he sang his heart out to some of his favourites. That was how he arrived in Holmes Chapel, probably too loud for almost midnight - even if it was Christmas Eve.

 

There were Christmas lights all over the neighbourhood, including his mother's house, and he loved it. It was like the current joy in his soul had exploded over the town (except in a less gross way). He parked his car behind his sister's and made his way inside - still far too loud and excited.

 

It had been a good day, better than he'd expected, and he couldn't contain it.

 

"Harry Styles, where on Earth have you been?" His mother greeted him rather joyously once he stepped through the doorway.

 

He'd texted her to let her know he was on his way, but it clearly hadn't been enough to appease her.

 

"Mum! My lovely Mum, how are you doing?" His mother's voice had come from the living room, and he hurriedly made his way there. Anne had been sitting watching television, waiting patiently for her son to get home, and she'd gotten up when she'd heard the door open. He went straight in for a tight hug and she just let it happen.

 

If anyone was used to his oddities, it would be his mother.

 

Fuck, he'd missed her. He'd missed being home.

 

"I'm good sweetheart. What's got you in such a good mood? How am I supposed to be angry with you right now when you look like that?" She indicated the over-joyed expression on his face once he pulled away.

 

"I'm in love, Mum! Absolutely, completely in love, and it feels so... Brilliant!"

 

She nodded slowly, taking only a short moment to realize exactly what her strange son was going on about. "That's right, you were meeting Louis today weren't you? I imagine that went well." She said with a fond, motherly, smile on her lips.

 

Harry was gesturing wildly due to his excessive amount of adrenaline, "Oh, Mum, you have to meet him. He's so lovely. _Fuck_. Sorry. It's like I don't even know how to let out all this..." More wild gesturing. "Happiness!"

 

Anne laughed as Harry continued to exude pure energy, "I'm happy to see you so happy, Love. But that's no excuse for not calling your mother."

 

"But Mum! We just... We got carried away. We were talking, and then talking some more... Next thing I know it's 9 o'clock! And he said yes. He said he'd come with me to New York next week, and what's more romantic than the ball drop in New York on New Year's Eve? Nothing." Harry frowned suddenly, "Oh... What if he doesn't know I meant it that way? That could be awkward."

 

"Harry, Harry relax baby."

 

He breathed out slowly and deeply.

 

"What's going on? You're so loud." Harry turned towards the living room doorway where stood his big sister Gemma. Harry walked over to her - noticing her pyjamas and wow he'd forgotten how late it was - and proceeded to give her a big hug.

 

"I'm in love, Gems, and it's the best thing in the whole wide world." He didn't let her go.

 

"Ugh. Lame. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say his name is Louis." She drawled, patting his back gently.

 

He'd skyped home lots and of course both his mom and sister used the internet frequently enough to have heard about Louis Tomlinson. He was probably the only person that Harry Tweeted to regularly. Harry tried not to talk about him too much, but it wasn't easy.

 

"Yup!" He agreed.

 

"I'm guessing the 'First Meeting' went well?" Gemma said with air-quotes (once Harry finally drew back). Harry had said the 'First Meeting' was so important that it needed to be capitalized when he texted about it. God, her brother was a weirdo.

 

"He's so... Pfff." He made some sort of sound with his mouth, unable to come up with proper words.

 

"You know, Harry, you did just meet him today. I mean... I know it's special and everything, but don't you think it's a little soon to be saying that you're in love with him?" Anne said gently, trying not to upset him, but wanting to shine light on the situation.

 

"Okay, sure, I've never been in love before and I have just met him, but Mum... I always thought I would _know_ when I'm in love with someone, and I _do_. I love him, Mum. So much. It's... I can't even form the words to express how much I love him. I know it sounds stupid, and you won't get it, but he... He's so special. And when we met today it was like magic. Everything was perfect."

 

Anne placed a stray curl behind Harry's ear, gently patting his cheek, "Okay, baby, I believe you. I'm very happy for you."

 

"Sooo... Are you dating now?" Gemma asked curiously.

 

Harry grinned sheepishly, stepping from one foot to the other awkwardly, "Um, not really? I mean, he said he'd come to New York with me, which is practically a date, but we kind of didn't really _say_ it was a date..."

 

"Do you think he wants it to be a date too?" Gemma asked cautiously. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to be so clearly in love with someone who didn't feel the same way back. She'd seen the sparkle in her brother's eyes more times than she could count in the last three months, but she didn't know this Louis lad personally and couldn't say what his side of the story was like.

 

"I think he's not sure about this whole thing." Harry said hesitantly, trying to phrase it properly, "But! I'm going to take him to New York, I'm going to put myself out there and hope for the best."

 

"You're even grosser than usual when you're in love." Gemma commented dryly, rolling her eyes. (There was a smile hiding there, Harry could see it).

 

"Well excuse me for being a romantic." He shot back, not unkindly.

 

"A hopeless romantic." She agreed.

 

"Okay, okay, it's late and it's time for bed." Anne said.

 

"But Mum, how am I supposed to sleep like this?" Harry whined, still clearly full of energy.

 

"Oh you'll find a way. Sing yourself to sleep." She shut off the television and ushered her two children out of the living room and towards the stairs. "Get upstairs and get to bed. Christmas tomorrow and it's a big day."

 

"Yes, Mum." They chorused.

 

Anne smiled, happy to have her children at home and happy. She hoped whatever happened next week in New York went well for her boy. He deserved to be with someone he obviously loved so much, even if she was uncertain about the whole situation.

 

Harry climbed into his old bed, taking out his phone and looking through his phone gallery. It was now mostly a lot of pictures he'd taken to send Louis, and a lot of pictures Louis had sent him in return. He stared at his phone background, his wallpaper the image of the boy he loved, a little annoyed that he hadn't taken a picture with Louis when he'd had the chance, but he would make up for it next week. He had a lot of plans for next week.

 

He dreamt of New York.

 

**OoOoO**

 

Louis felt silly, crying in his mother's lap again, but fuck he needed it.

 

He's sure he scared his mother half to death when he came back from the hospital with tears in his eyes, but he quickly assured her that Stan was fine. She led her son to the living room and took a seat on the sofa, easing back into the comfy cushion while Louis layed down and let his tears fall into her lap. She ran her hand through his hair soothingly, relaxed knowing it wasn't something life or death.

 

"What's the matter, Honey?" She asked.

 

"I love him." He muttered, his voice muffled as he was laying sideways, pressing his face in his mother's thigh.

 

"You mean Harry?" She asked despite knowing the answer. He was the only boy to ever revert her son into a teary mess more than once.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"But that's not a bad thing, Honey. Love is supposed to be a good thing!"

 

"It's fucking awesome, being in love, I mean. The thing that fucking sucks is that... It's not... It's not going to _work_. He's all famous and shit, and I'm just... Me." He finished softly, hating himself for being insecure, but knowing in this case it was justified.

 

She hummed softly, wording her reply carefully, "Sweetheart... Anyone you find worthy of loving must be special enough to see how worthy you are of being loved in return."

 

Louis sniffled. "He's so dumb, Mum. You'd love him. He has the worst jokes and the biggest heart and he came all this way just to talk for a couple hours. He's so... sweet."

 

"Sounds like he cares about you a lot." She said.

 

"He's a good person." Louis reasoned.

 

"You really love him, don't you?"

 

"I do, Mum. I really do. I thought I was in love before, but this is just completely different. It's so much more intense, but also really... Comfortable. Does that make sense?"

 

"Yeah, it does."

 

"I wish things were different. At least if I had a _chance_ , you know, I wouldn't be so pathetic."

 

"You're not pathetic." Jay chided gently.

 

"Oh, he's _super_ pathetic, Mum."

 

Louis raised his head a bit to look over at the doorway, seeing Charlotte standing there with his flower vase in her arms.

 

"You're supposed to be in bed." Jay scolded.

 

"Mhm." She stepped closer to the sofa and Louis placed his head back down on Jay's lap, uninterested in whatever she came to say. He wasn't in the mood to deal with anybody right now.

 

"What're you doing with my flowers?" He asked sourly. With four sisters he was used to his things being everybody's things, but these were his flowers they were talking about.

 

"I Googled them." She said proudly, placing the vase on the coffee table where Louis could see them from his position.

 

"Oh really?" He drawled, unimpressed. Why was she interrupting his pity party?

 

"Yup." She quipped, "Did you know that white orchids are a symbol of hope and new beginnings?"

 

"How fascinating." That was probably his finest achievement in the art of sarcasm.

 

"And sunflowers mean adoration."

 

Louis stared at her.

 

"And red tulips are a declaration of love. I don't know about you, but it doesn't really scream 'Happy Birthday' to me." She placed her hands on her hips and smiled proudly, giving off waves of satisfaction.

 

"He wouldn't be that dumb. Look, he chose random flowers and there's no need to look more into it. He knows how much I love 'em so he was just being nice."

 

"Oh he said that did he? That he chose random flowers?"

 

Louis frowned, thinking back on what Harry _had_ said. "He said... He winged it. Or wung it. Whatever." He sighed, "At least I'll be teaching kids."

 

"Hmm..." She didn't say anything else.

 

"Like I said, he wouldn't be that dumb. Declaring your love with flowers is such a... Silly thing to do." Okay, so maybe it wasn't _completely_ improbable, but he wasn't going to think about it. He had to think about New York and wasn't that stressful enough?

 

"He's taking me to New York." He said after a moment of silence.

 

"What?" Jay asked, uncertain if she'd heard that correctly.

 

"Next week. We're leaving on New Year's Eve and we're going to New York to see the ball drop." He explained, finding it odd when he said it out loud like that. At lot of things between them seemed odder when said out loud.

 

"He's taking you to New York... City?" Charlotte asked.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Jeez, sounds like the start of some elaborate marriage proposal." Charlotte commented.

 

Louis laughed, "Maybe I love him, but we are _not_ getting married anytime soon."

 

"How long are you going to be in New York?" Jay asked.

 

"We're leaving on the 31st and we'll be back the next day around dinner time. We're only going for the night."

 

"Sounds romantic." Charlotte remarked (a little wistfully).

 

"It's not. I mean, I guess it does seem like something romantic, but it's not in this case." Louis protested, "We're friends, Lottie, and friends hang out."

 

"Sure, I take all of my friends on cliché romantic trips to New York City." She learnt how to be sarcastic thanks to her big brother.

 

"It's late. You should go to bed." Louis told her. He closed his burning eyes and appreciated the fact his mother hadn't stopped petting his hair the whole time. It was soothing, in a motherly kind of way.

 

"Louis' right Charlotte. Everyone's going to be up early tomorrow and you'll need your sleep." Jay said.

 

"But _Mum_ -" She whined, but one look from her mother made her stop. She rolled her eyes, "Fine." She stepped towards the flowers and reached for them.

 

"Wait." Louis said, having opened his eyes to watch his sister off, "Leave those there."

 

"Alright then. Night." She bid them goodnight and made her way to her bedroom as her mother requested.

 

"Everything's so confusing." Louis admitted after a little while of silence. "I love him and it feels so right, but then everything else is shit and I don't know what I'm supposed to _do_."

 

"Just do what feels right, baby, like you always have. You'll have a great time in New York and you'll figure this out, okay?"

 

"Yeah... Yeah." He agreed. He slowly rose up into a seated position, stretching his limbs. He turned to his mother a gave her a hug and a kiss, "Thanks, Mum."

 

"You're very welcome, Boo Bear." She laughed at his look of disgust.

 

"I'm not four, Mum!" He groaned and she gave him a big kiss on the cheek, still laughing at him.

 

"Go to bed." She told him and he sighed.

 

"Yeah, okay." He grabbed his vase and stood up, wincing when a few muscles popped. He was getting too old to be sitting around all day. He turned to his mother and wished her a good night, thanking her once more for letting him have himself a little pity party.

 

He took his flowers back to his room, placing the vase very carefully on his bedside table. He ran a finger across the soft petals of the red tulips (supposedly a declaration of love - his sister was out of her mind, but the idea was nice).

 

His mother was right. Louis was going to figure this out.

 

He dreamt of New York.

 

**OoOoO**

 

With a couple duffel bags and an extremely sparkly mug between the two of them, Harry and Louis arrived safely in New York City at about 6 p.m in Eastern time. They stopped at a hotel Harry seemed to have booked in advance, dropping off their things and getting properly dressed for the evening. Big coats and beanies on, they headed out for dinner before they went to Times Square.

 

Of course stopping for a quick selfie as per Harry's request.

 

"Really, Harold?" Louis teased. Harry just smiled.

 

He rolled his eyes, but leant against Harry, placing himself in the frame for the picture. Harry beamed and Louis pulled a funny face, and the picture was taken. Harry grinned at his camera after, taking a look at the picture. It was cute, he judged completely unbiasedly.

 

With a shy smile he turned to Louis, "Is it okay if I put this on Instagram?"

 

"Whatever floats your boat, Pumpkin. Did you at least get my good side?" He joked, crossing his arms and waiting 'patiently' while Harry posted the picture on the million-and-one websites he used regularly.

 

"All you have are good sides." Harry commented, not looking away from his phone while he tagged the picture with Louis' Twitter handle and taking the time to add a little message, _'Winter selfie! Brrr!_ '. That was going to drive some people crazy and he was excited to see what people were going to say about it. He knew some of the fans were almost as excited to have them hanging out as Harry was himself.

 

"I know we tried to be all quiet and stuff, but there's still a couple pictures from the airport. I'm sorry." Harry said sincerely, looking almost ashamed.

 

Louis was still a little flustered by the first comment, but tried to focus on Harry's (absurd) guilt. "It's fine, really. Figures I'll have to get used to it if we're gonna spend time together anyways, right?"

 

"I guess... Times Square isn't going to be very private, there's going to be a lot of cameras and people taking pictures, is that going to be alright?" Harry took his bottom lip between his teeth, biting at the soft flesh nervously. Perhaps he hadn't thought this through completely.

 

"You need to chill, mate. I said it was fine, really. C'mon, you need to show me how the New Yorkers eat, unless you want to hang out on the pavement all night." Louis grabbed Harry's biceps and tugged him to the edge of the sidewalk where their vehicle was waiting. Apparently Harry had a chauffeur (that Louis made sure to mock him about plenty).

 

Harry laughed and pulled him into a hug, just loving _everything_ at that moment, "Welcome to New York City, Lou!" He opened the car door for him and did an over-exaggerated bow, "After you, sir!"

 

"Why, thank you kindly sir!" Louis curtsied (badly) and laughed, getting into the car and moving over to the next seat to give Harry room to sit.

 

"Ready to eat what the Americans eat?"

 

"Are there really burgers the size of my head?" Louis asked, not sure whether the idea was exciting or horrifying.

 

"Yup. It's an actual thing. Is that what you want?"

 

Louis debated the idea for a moment, "Hm... I think we should get giant ass burgers. You up for it, Harold?"

 

"Sounds awesome."

 

Harry leant between the two front seats, giving the driver a destination after being parked still for far too long. He started up the car and they headed off to a lovely burger joint that would serve them burgers the size of their heads with a bucket worth of french fries.

 

It was also totally not a date.

 

Louis could honestly say he fell in love with New York City. The sights, the sound, the smells, it was overwhelming and beautiful and energetic, he felt right at home amidst the chaos. Although he could tell the city wasn't perfect and he would never want to live there, the company was too good to pass up.

 

He was in love and he could feel it through his veins and into his bones, the warmth and the sparkles and the butterflies and being _home_ with this silly boy and his childish charms. The food was great and the city wonderful, but it was Harry that made it special without a doubt.

 

They left the restaurant a couple hours later, full of food and high off each other. Only once or twice did a fan come up to their table for a picture, and they didn't mind - it was to be expected. Yet, what surprised Louis was that _he_ was asked to be in a picture. More than once. It was so strange to know that some American girls knew his face and name when he hadn't really done anything other than be associated with One Direction. Although that seemed to be enough.

 

Outside the restaurant, the first time it happened, Louis went to reach for the phone as he'd done before - since he was quite used to getting asked to take the picture for the fan (or fans). Instead, she held the phone close to her chest, looking shyly at her friend (older brother? boyfriend?).

 

"Can I... Um... Get a picture with both of you? Please?"

 

"Me?" Louis asked, pointing to himself.

 

"Yes please!"

 

Louis frowned, thinking it might be some sort of joke, "Why?" He asked, confusion lacing his tone.

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but Harry interrupted her, "Why not? C'mon then, let's get this picture taken! Will your friend be joining us?" He gestured to the boy by her side.

 

"No, no, he'll take the picture." She passed him her phone, "Thanks, Steve!"

 

She stepped between them, taking the picture and chatting with them for a moment before heading on her merry way.

 

"That was weird." Louis commented, stepping into the car.

 

"You've got a lot of fans, Lou. I mean, the reason behind your videos was sad, but aside from that they were genuinely hilarious. You were born to be a star." Harry said (gushed).

 

Louis felt his ears burning, "Not really, I'm just loud."

 

"Mm." Harry hummed softly, "Very loud." He agreed, "But still a star."

 

The vehicle brought them as close to Times Square as it could, and from there the walk was relatively short. It was almost eleven o'clock and the sun had gone down and the city had lit up. Cameras were flashing and people were talking and the performers were doing their thing, it was lovely and quite entertaining, but Louis couldn't help but be nervous. It was Harry, and New Year's Eve, and Times Square, and he couldn't keep still if he tried.

 

"We'll be fine, Lou, don't worry about it. We could show up at five-to-midnight and have a good spot - I promise."

 

"Are you always so posh? Because I may have to rethink this friendship of ours, Harold."

 

Harry tightened his grip around Louis' shoulder, where he was keeping him close for no real reason other than he wanted to. He ignored the jibe, "Do you know, since you've called me Harold once or twice on Twitter some people think it's my _actual_ name?"

 

Louis laughed loudly, warm and comfortable, "What can I say? I'm incredibly influential."

 

Somehow they made it to the center-ish area of Times Square, getting a good view of the front stage and the ball drop.

 

Charlotte had been right. This was definitely a cliché romantic evening.

 

Pressed into Harry's side, an arm around his waist to keep them close, they watched the announcers do their show and the performers excite the crowd. He wondered how many cameras were pointed towards them, how many people were staring - too many he was sure. Yet somehow it felt like they were the only two people in the world, standing together under the night sky of New York City.

 

Was this what love was supposed to feel like? He hoped so, because he couldn't imagine anything being better.

 

"Are you cold at all?" Harry asked, leaning down to speak directly into his ear - the only way to be heard in this chaos.

 

"Would you give me your coat like a proper gentleman if I was?"

 

"Of course!" Harry replied - mock indignant, as if being anything other than a proper gentleman was a preposterous thought.

 

Louis laughed, but shook his head, "No, I'm alright, Love. But thanks." Maybe it was a bit chilly, but all Louis had to do was bury his hand into his pocket, as for the one on Harry's waist, well, he'd just have to steal Harry's pocket for the time being.

 

Slowly the show progressed and the counter drew nearer and nearer to midnight. Louis could feel his heart beating and his cheeks flaming, uncertain and a little nauseous. Midnight and New Years was a _thing_ , a kissing thing usually. He'd kissed a few people in his lifetime, several even on New Year's Eve, but fuck he'd never been so confused before.

 

Was _this_ a kissing thing, or were they going to ignore that part altogether? He wanted it to be the first, but... Everything was so confusing and weird between the two of them and he was clueless as to where Harry wanted things to go.

 

"Five minutes everybody! Five minutes until the new year! Everybody with some good company tonight? I sure hope so!"

 

They stood still, watching the clock tick down and listening to the announcer count down the minutes. Five minutes... Four minutes... Three minutes... Two minutes...

 

Harry pulled back a bit, taking Louis' hand from his waist before he could bring it down to his side, and he turned to face him directly. Louis felt how clammy Harry's hand was in his own, how his cheeks were red (and not from the cold either), and his eyes were wide, wide, wide and so green and scared. Somehow, that calmed him right down, now knowing for sure that what he was feeling appeared to be mutual.

 

Harry was nervous too, and what was the point of both of them being nervous over the same thing?

 

Louis stepped closer, pressing his lips next to Harry's ear to be heard above the countdown, "Whatever decision you've made... Are you sure it's a good decision? What with everything." Louis gestured to the crowd and the camera, but it was clear he meant more than just what was happening around them.

 

Harry smiled shyly, meeting his gaze head on. He took Louis' other hand in his, his grip tighter and confident, "This is the best decision of my life." He said leaving no room to argue.

 

"Fourty... Thirty-nine... Thirty-eight..."

 

"What about..." He glanced over to a nearby camera, and then looked back at Harry, hoping the meaning was caught.

 

"I love you more than I care what anybody has to say on the matter." Harry whispered gently into his ear, pressing their cheeks together - too embarrassed to pull away and look Louis in the eyes.

 

Louis opened and closed his mouth several times before somehow finding his voice behind the butterflies in his stomach and the fire in his veins, "I... I don't get speechless, Harry, but fuck... You - you always find a way..." He let go of Harry's hands and gently took his shoulders, pushing him back enough to face him directly. Both of their faces were flushed, and he could see both terror and resolution in Harry's eyes, like he knew he'd done the right thing even if it scared the daylights out of him.

 

"Five... Four... Three... Two..."

 

He placed his hands in those thick curls and brought him in slowly, pressing their lips softly together.

 

"One! Happy New Years!"

 

There were fireworks and shouting and laughing and music and the ball drop and so much noise and excitement around them, but they were lost in each other.

 

The fire in his veins exploded as their lips touched and it steadily settled into a gentle warmth from the tip of his toes to his fingertips. He let go of Harry's hair and wrapped his arms around his neck, their kiss gentle and firm. Harry's hands were on his lower back, bringing him as close as possible. Though he never wanted to stop kissing him, he reluctantly pulled back for a second to whisper into his ear.

 

"I love you, too. So much." It was almost like he'd explode if he didn't get that out, like he couldn't contain the absolute love and adoration he had for this man any longer. "Did you really bring me all the way to New York City... To kiss me?"

 

Harry smiled sheepishly, "Maybe?" He shrugged helplessly.

 

Louis took his face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across Harry's flushed cheeks, "Oh my God, I'm in love with a dork."

 

"Yup." Harry agreed, leaning in for a soft kiss that Louis quickly drew back from.

 

"Wait, wait, wait... You Googled those flowers didn't you, you fuck?" Louis asked, scowling because he absolutely did _not_ want his sister right on this one, but he had a feeling she was by the laugh on Harry's lips.

 

"Maybe?" He repeated, "But hey, you did too apparently!" He tried to reason.

 

"No, I didn't! My sister did you absolute loser. You're bloody ridiculous, Harold Styles."

 

Harry stared in adoration at Louis' exaggerated response (knowing he was hyping it up as he always did for Harry's entertainment). For a moment they stared at each, the noise around them still dulled by their adrenaline. Times Square was slowly emptying, the announcers finishing their show, and the ball drop over, but they took no notice as they were still completely focused only on each other.

 

"Kiss me you fool." Harry whispered, and Louis easily complied.

 

Things would start getting complicated for the duo first thing in the morning, they both knew it without needing to bring it up, but for now it was simple.

 

Simple and brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya there! Hope you enjoyed my little monster! Please feel free to leave a comment telling me what you thought about it, I'd really appreciate some feedback! Thank you and have a good day :)


End file.
